


Oh, screw it

by Zoesiapie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fremione - Freeform, Funny, Happy Ending, Long, Poor Hermione, Promise, Romance, Side Effects, Traslation, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, not really - Freeform, ops - Freeform, sorrynotsorry, special candies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoesiapie/pseuds/Zoesiapie
Summary: "Fred and George offered us to try out their new product a half hour ago and we all accepted, however, it seemed bad to leave you out of the loop" says Harry, muddling his words into a loud yawn."And what exactly would this candy do?""We don't know." Ginny hastens to say, innocently."Are you telling me that the three of you consciously ingested a product of theirs without checking to see what it was or what it would do?" she asks, tremendously concerned, "You people are completely insane.""Hermione, we're grateful that you think our inventions are harmless" George comments wryly, running a hand through his hair."But to prove that it's all completely safe... " Fred opens his mouth, quickly dropping a candy into his mouth and just as quickly sending it down towards his stomach, "We decided to take it too."The confidence of Fred's movements amazes her and a little voice in the innermost part of her brain begins to tell her that maybe, just maybe, this isn't such a... Dangerous thing.The sight of the twin is obscured by George's hand, offering her the same candy as before with a toothy smile, "What do you say then?"Oh, screw it.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Oh, al diavolo](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/738741) by Sia_. 



The Common Room, as midnight arrived, inevitably began to empty more and more, and as the last group of first graders laughingly climbed the stairs, Hermione allowed herself a tiny smile, turning the page of _History of Magic_. 

She has always liked the silence, the comfortable silence in front of the hearth of the Gryffindor Hall: a fire so bright that it colors all the pages of her books, making them almost alive. Her fingers ran quickly over the words, as if she wanted to feed on them again and again, without stopping. Yet, at some point, Hermione's attention shifts away from the book she holds in her hands: Ron, across the room, is inviting her to join them. She shakes her head, mentally marking the number of the page she's reached, crawling to the side of Ginny, who immediately rests her head on her shoulder. 

Technically, the Common Room isn't empty, it's just emptier than usual. I mean, Hermione Granger hoped that, in such a situation, she'd be able to dabble in her pastimes without being interrupted, but she prayed too little. 

"You must have read that book a million times by now," Ron points out to her, handing her a piece of candy. She studies it, wrinkling her nose, trying not to give any weight to the words just spoken by her friend. What's the big deal about reading a book a million times? History of Magic is a book to be read _billions of times_. 

"What is it?" she asks defensively, as Ginny's lips part in a simple smile. 

"I told you she'd notice," she says pointedly in her brother's direction, then running a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's not like she's stupid." 

Harry, sitting across from Hermione, nods with laughter, adjusting his glasses on his nose: is it his impression or is his vision getting worse and worse?

Ron's ears quickly turn a reddish color, "Well, it was worth a try" he finally says, lowering his eyes. 

"You still haven't told me what this candy is."

"Because, Hermione, I don't think... "

"Our brother is capable of explaining it." The Weasley twins are quick to reply, opening their lips in a huge, all-too-big, smile. 

Hermione shakes her head and lets a sigh escape, "Enlighten me."

Fred smiles wickedly, pointing his eyes at her. Eyes, the witch muses, that are making the skin of her face burn. She knows that, most likely, her cheeks have turned a slight reddish hue. He breaks contact, leaving her alone with her thoughts for a millisecond: what was that? Since when is someone's gaze able to throw her body's balance so off? Or, in this case, her heart. 

He squints his lips as George picks up the candy that Ron is still holding in his palm. 

"This, Granger, is our latest invention" he clarifies practically, pulling another pair of treats out of his pocket. 

"Ronald, were you trying to make me a lab rat?" Hermione raises an eyebrow at the youngest of the Weasley brothers, who raises his hands in unconditional surrender. He tried, it's true, but would Hermione have taken a candy made up by the twins on her own accord? 

"Situations like this require extraordinary maneuvers," Ginny stepped forward, laughing. 

"Situations like what?" now Hermione raises an eyebrow at her friend. 

"Fred and George offered us to try out their new product a half hour ago and we all accepted, however, it seemed bad to leave you out of the loop" says Harry, muddling his words into a loud yawn. 

"And what exactly would this candy do?"

"We don't know." Ginny hastens to say, innocently. 

"Are you telling me that the three of you consciously ingested a product of theirs without checking to see what it was or what it would do?" she asks, tremendously concerned, "You people are completely insane."

"Hermione, we're grateful that you think our inventions are harmless" George comments wryly, running a hand through his hair. 

"But to prove that it's all completely safe... " Fred opens his mouth, quickly dropping a candy into his mouth and just as quickly sending it down towards his stomach, "We decided to take it too."

The confidence of Fred's movements amazes her and a little voice in the innermost part of her brain begins to tell her that maybe, just maybe, this isn't such a... _Dangerous thing_. 

The sight of the twin is obscured by George's hand, offering her the same candy as before with a toothy smile, "What do you say then?"

_Oh, screw it._


	2. Chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes earlier, he rehearsed: he fixated on Hermione's oh-so-precise features, on the contour and color of the food, on the words written in the Prophet's Gazette, and then his gaze fell back on Ginny. And holy crap, he couldn't see her like everything else. So no, it's not all good if his day doesn't start with Guinevere Weasley's bright smile. He shakes his head as the twins make their entrance into the Great Hall and Ron quickly rises to join them. 

The table in the Great Hall in the morning is always packed with students, huddles and huddles of hands throw themselves on the food that had appeared just before, and as bellies fill, the walls of the room magnify the noise caused by the chatter. Hermione runs a hand over her temples, trying to focus her attention on the _Prophet's Gazette_ for the umpteenth time, "You should eat something" suggests Harry to her, nibbling on a warm piece of bread, slathered with a large amount of jam. 

"I was just keeping myself informed," she apologizes, closing the paper and pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice, "Are you okay?"

Ron nods, tossing a second helping of bacon onto his plate, "I need a lot of energy." He hurries to tell her friend, to avoid being reprimanded. 

"Surprisingly well." Smiles Harry, blatantly lying. No it's not all good: a few hours after the twins' candy reached his stomach, he finally managed to understand what effect it is able to cause. He didn't pay any attention to it at first, perhaps due to the dim light of the Common Room the night before, but in the morning glow of the Great Hall all is clear to him: he no longer sees Ginny Weasley. Or, at the very least, he sees her blurry, as if she were immersed in a cloud. 

When he sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes earlier, he rehearsed: he fixated on Hermione's oh-so-precise features, on the contour and color of the food, on the words written in the _Prophet's Gazette,_ and then his gaze fell back on Ginny. And holy crap, he couldn't see her like everything else. So no, it's not all good if his day doesn't start with Guinevere Weasley's bright smile. He shakes his head as the twins make their entrance into the Great Hall and Ron quickly rises to join them. 

"Are we sure everything's all right?" reiterates Hermione, shifting her view to her friend who just got up, focusing Harry's attention on something other than his decidedly problematic problem. Receiving no response, the witch lashes out, "Do you think it's because of last night's candy? Oh, holy Merlin, that's why you're not supposed to do these things," she says, laying a hand on her face, "You figured it out? I say, do you happen to understand what they do?"

Harry, watching Hermione's eyes scared out of their wits, hurries to deny it with his face.

 _Liar_ , Ginny thinks, raising her lips in a tiny smile. 

"So nothing happened to you either?" asks Hermione again, moving closer and closer to her best friend. 

Again, Harry denies it, forcing Ginny to let a small laugh escape. 

"What, did something happen to you?" asks Hermione worriedly, touching what Harry thinks is her shoulder, though he's not so sure. 

Ginny shakes her head as well, making sure to quell Hermione's anxiety, finding herself lying as well. She's sure that something has changed since the night before: she's been able to hear Harry Potter's thoughts in her head for a while now, too. It had taken her a few minutes to figure out whose voice was, but when the figure of Voldemort appeared in her mind for a brief second, Ginny knew she had gotten into the Chosen One's head. 

"You need to relax, Hermione: you'll see that nothing will happen," Harry says mildly, mentally cursing the Weasley twins: of all the people he had to stop seeing, why his Ginny? He shakes his head, casting his eyes on Ron's sister's face and bends his head a few degrees: why did she move his hair in front of her face? 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" inquires Hermione for the umpteenth time, completely forgetting to answer the Chosen One, "You're all red in the face."

Ginny nods, unable to utter words in such a circumstance, "his Ginny?"

⳧

  
Fred enters the Great Hall with the realization that the enormous weight on his chest is beginning to fade more and more, disappearing as his eyes fall on Hermione Granger. _Misery_. 

"Fred, George!" Ron interrupts the thinking thoughts of either of them and waits for both of them to point all their attention to him, "I should ask you something."

"We hope it's something rather important... "

"Since you're delaying our breakfast and, you should know, we're hungry," the twins smile starts at his right ear and quickly reaches his left: the grin ready to stretch a little further, it might even be bigger than the entire Great Hall. That's where the brother gets lost in thought: how are they always full of energy? How do they always be so...? Fred's fingers twitching in front of his eyes brings him back to reality, "We're hungry, did you catch that or not?"

Ron shakes his head, "Every time I think of her, all the people I'm talking to become her" he finally confesses, he's been mulling it over all night, ever since he said goodnight to someone who wasn't Harry or Neville. At first he thought it was just a twist of fate, that it couldn't be true, but in the morning light he was convinced to ask his diabolical brothers for help: never would he have bet on it. 

"Interesting" whispered George, yawning. 

"So who am I supposed to be now?" inquires Fred, pretending to fix himself some long hair. This is exactly one of the many reasons Ron has thought long and hard about whether or not to ask for the twins' help: they would have teased him to death. He already feels uncomfortable; he can't afford to have his brothers make him feel out of place, too. And yet what he's looking at now is no longer Fred, he's really taken on the form of someone else: he has to ask for help. Ron's voice doesn't dare come out, it's too embarrassing and he finds himself shaking his head again as his face begins to turn a quick reddish color. 

"Oh, Ron come on, _we need to know_." George passes an arm around his shoulders, bending his face towards his brother's. 

"It's for purely educational purposes," Fred clarifies, nodding. The twins' eyes meet quickly, mischievous. What are they up to that time?

"Lavender. " an unconvinced whisper escapes Ron's lips, and he shifts his gaze to some table, regretting ever saying the name. 

"Ah." comments George, pulling away from his younger brother, running a hand through his hair, "Now that's interesting."

"Excuse me?" Ron is indignant at that point, not so much at the comment from either of them, but at the fact that he hasn't gotten any help yet. He needs Lavender to get out of his mind, to stop editing his world: sure he likes Lavender, he likes seeing her there, but not all the time, not everywhere. 

At that point George would have expected to hear his twin's voice, but at his silence he begins to worry and turns to him, who, he notes, stands in the middle of the hallway with a dumbfounded grin. 

"What's wrong with him?" asks Ron, running a hand past Fred's eyes, trying to get him to return to the land of the talkers, but it's all to no avail. And George, casting a glance at the Know-It-All that's coming out of the Great Hall, begins to laugh uproariously, "I'll take care of him, don't worry," he tells him, passing an arm around his twin's shoulders this time. 

"Yeah but what am I going to do? I can't walk around all day thinking Lavender is everywhere and nowhere."

Fred shakes his head, when Hermione's figure has now rounded the corner and is therefore unnoticeable, "At least it will be nice for you to attend potions class, with a blonde Snape with all the curves in the right place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can update sooner than expected!  
> I sincerely thank the people who have been following my story, I hope I can convince you more and more.  
> Until the next update,  
> Zoesiapie ❤


	3. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Hermione closes the library doors behind her, she lets go of a deep sigh, interrupted when Fred re-enters her thoughts like water leaking from a dam. And despite herself, remembering the smell of her twin, she finds herself smiling exactly like the figure in her head.

With the last class of the afternoon over, Hermione decides to go to the library: she needs to be alone. She spent the whole time worrying about that stupid candy she stupidly swallowed. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

That's why she doesn't do things lightly, following her instincts of _oh, screw it_ , because then the guilt grips her stomach all day. And as much as Harry and Ginny swear to her that everything is going her way, she realizes that something about their behavior is different, more clumsy, awkward. She shakes her head, sitting down in the farthest area of the library, pulling out her _Artimomancy_ paper. 

Her mind, for when she would like it to focus on the numbers she's written on the paper, races once again to that candy. If Harry and Ginny - and presumably Ron as well - have already experienced changes, why is she completely normal? Is there something wrong with her? She stops her thought: Hermione Granger is perfectly normal, except for being born a witch, and that, in the Muggle world, is definitely not normal, but inside the walls of Hogwarts, she knows she's perfectly normal. She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. 

That new attitude of hers is not good at all, she needs to focus if she wants to get anything done that afternoon, it's not like her to fall behind on her homework. She opens up _Numeracy and Grammar_ , moving her wand to gather her hair into a small bun. An hour later, sitting in the same position, Hermione curses that candy again, noting how a seemingly simple task took her so long. She closes the textbook tightly, running a hand over her face, but then folds the parchment she just finished writing more calmly, stretching for a few seconds. 

SHe stands up, getting lost in the shelves of the library, patiently looking at the names of the tomes to his left and right, until her attention is caught by the usual copy of _History of Magic._ She runs her finger over the cover, turning the book over in her hands, smiling quickly. She reaches for the page she was reading the night before, trying to remember where her eyes had stopped, distracted by Ron. She tries to read for a few seconds, but finds that her mind is now going over every moment of the night before, every detail, every word, every person. And as Fred's smile breaks through her mind, she can swear the words on the book are starting to move: When did _History of Magic_ become unreadable? 

She blinks, letting the image of her twin fall into the innermost recesses of her thoughts, noting that yes, it was just an oversight. The words on the page are in the correct position, written there for years now. She calls herself stupid, but when the school clock informs her that it's almost dinnertime, she starts thinking that maybe it was just tiredness. 

She closes _History of Magic_ , wielding her wand to lift the book to the shelf she took it from a few minutes earlier, picking up the bag left on the table. 

As Hermione closes the library doors behind her, she lets go of a deep sigh, interrupted when Fred re-enters her thoughts like water leaking from a dam. And despite herself, remembering the smell of her twin, she finds herself smiling exactly like the figure in her head. 

_⳧_

"You're fried." whispers George in his twin's ear, smiling guiltily, "Never seen a fatter feller than you."

"Fried things are good" comments Lee, putting his hands in the pockets of his long cloak.

"Jordan, that's not what I mean." The twin wrinkles his nose, trying to remember perfectly the dumbfounded expression his exact pair showed in the beauty of the Great Hall: had he had a camera at that moment, like Colin's, he would have even made an album out of it. 

"I know perfectly well what you mean." it's Fred who speaks, pushing his brother's face away with one hand, "But I have to agree that fried things are good, very good." A smile arises on his lips at the faint reminder of Hermione's sullen face, but he soon censors it himself, afraid that someone might read more into it than expected. 

"Calm your adolescent instincts," George reminds him, "I don't think she sees you as a tender morsel to be eaten either."

"Now this conversation is starting to make sense," Lee laughs, resting an arm around the more appetizing twin's shoulders, "So who's this little bird?" 

Fred shakes his head, quickly removing that new weight from his body, "Let's worry more about George." He changes the subject, because he isn't ready to deal with him yet: not that he doesn't realize it, it's obvious how he feels and why he feels the way he does, it's just that saying it out loud is a whole other matter.

"What do you want from the most innocent person in the world?" the latter replies, placing his hand on his chest theatrically.

Lee rolls his eyes, passing the two of them in the corridor, aware that they would start fighting in a few seconds, " _Dissendium_." he whispers. The wall in front of them vanishes in a matter of seconds, allowing the three to slip inside the hidden passage of the castle with speed and confidence. 

"You don't seem to have had any effect." Fred finally hastens to say, trying to dislodge George's hands from his body. 

"What are you two talking about?" exasperates Lee, leaning against the pillar of the room. Ever since the twins started turning that little compartment into their personal closet, there isn't even a space to get comfortable. Or rather, there are several spaces, but all close to some explosive invention, and Lee has no intention of becoming a living firework. 

"We might have wanted to test those candies. " George says quietly, running a hand through his hair. 

" _Those candies_?" Lee lets out a loud laugh, "But you guys are crazy."

"Well we certainly couldn't leave them there." Fred sets his books down next to a box of Sea Snacks, "We were curious."

"And particularly reckless."

"We never denied it." George walks over to the small box he left on the floor that morning, still containing a high number of those candies, "Only after all that happened, it wasn't possible to sit still."

"The problem is, after all that's happened, they're potentially deadly," Lee concludes, suddenly remembering with amusement the day those candies came to life. 

"Do you want to try one?" inquires George a few seconds of silence later, pulling the box closer to his friend, who doesn't let him say it twice. 

"We knew you wouldn't let us down, Jordan." Fred sneers, loosening the knot in his tie, feeling his heartbeat quicken. It's such an imperceptible moment that it seems to be impossible, but when, a few minutes after the clock strikes, his heart resumes speeding up, he's sure of it: Hermione Granger is thinking of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a translation, something I'm not so good at. If there are any errors, please let me know ❤.


	4. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can say that, you know." Fred smiles at him, as his twin's face turns a slight reddish hue, "After all, I think I caught you two one night, smooching in the middle of the castle corridors."
> 
> "You followed me?"
> 
> "I had other things to do that night, let's just say I killed two birds with one stone." George raises an eyebrow, intrigued, but Fred shakes his face, signaling the end of that conversation. He doesn't feel like explaining to him that he spent that evening in Hermione's company and caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye for a split second, because if he did, he'd also have to explain how he ended up making the rounds with a prefect. Him, Fred Weasley, doing the rounds.

Ron has gone insane, at least that's what Neville thinks, since it's been since Herbology class that every time he meets him, he greets him by calling him Lavender. 

Not that being compared to one of the prettiest girls in the Gryffindor house is a bad thing, it's just that he would have expected something different. When they met for the first time that morning and Ron greeted him with a flushed face, he called himself paranoid: he thought it was just a fluke, that his flushed face was caused by an awkward situation, but when Lavender's name came out of Ron's lips in his direction the second time, he realized something was wrong.

Neville, after that discovery, looked in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to find blonde hair on his head, looking at the outline of his body and face: what was that thing Ron saw about Lavender in him? Why couldn't he see it? But by the fifth meeting, Neville let it go and simply concluded that Ron had gone crazy. 

At dinner, Neville sits next to Harry, who is staring intently at the youngest of the Weasley brothers, "Are you all right?" he asks, serving himself a portion of potatoes. 

"Oh, I didn't see you come in, Neville," he tells him, reassuring him about the hypothetical fact that he's turned into Lavender Brown, "Everything okay, you?" 

He makes to answer, when Ron takes a seat in front of him. His face is still a little flushed, but when he looks up, he calls him by his name. Some relief spreads through Neville's mind: maybe it really was all a dream. 

"I'm fine, are you Ron?" he inquires, helping himself to the pumpkin juice. 

"I think I'm a little tired today." Is the only comment that escapes the lips of the youngest of the Weasley brothers. He's not just tired, he's devastated: seeing Lavender all over the place is something that yes, has its privileges, but at the same time, it's terrible. Mentally, Ron knows he's greeted more than two dozen Lavenders in a single day - which one of them was the real one? But did he greet the real one? How to tell which one of them was which? He runs a hand over his face, being reassured by the sight of a huge plate of potatoes in front of him. 

"Don't eat so many or there won't be enough for everyone." Hermione admonishes him, sitting down beside him. 

"Where have you been all afternoon?" asks Harry, as soon as he sets his glass down on the table, "I thought you were going to show up before dinner." He obviously noticed her absence: since both she and Ron have become prefects, there is little time they three spend together, so he notices more easily the hours she spends without them. And, he knew before the school year began, he's jealous of missing all those experiences. 

"I had a little more homework to do, excuse me," her friends smile urges her to continue, "What did you guys do?"

"Harry spent all afternoon reading Quidditch through the ages." Ginny interjects, stealing a potato from Neville's plate, who is fighting with all his might to get it back. 

"How do you know?"

"You're supposed to be studying for your exams."

Harry and Hermione talk over each other, causing a deep silence between everyone for a moment and the first one to speak is Ron, "I studied, I can swear Hermione." Neville looks up at him, trying not to smile; Ron has spent the afternoon in the fifth floor hallway, with a book open on his lap and his gaze resting on everyone who walked by him. He's sure of it, because he's had to walk past them several times, desperate to find Professor Sprite, who forgot the keys to the Herbology greenhouse at the end of class. 

Harry, on the other hand, continues to stare at Ginny, who pretends not to have said anything: trying to explain how she knows that the Chosen One has been reading all afternoon, since he did it in his room, is difficult, really complicated. Almost embarrassing. So she decides to keep quiet, hiding her lips in the glass of pumpkin juice. 

Hermione at that point tries to open her mouth again, to urge Harry to take something essential seriously, but she doesn't have time to utter a word when, a few seats away, Lee Jordan starts singing a song by the Weird Sisters at the top of his lungs to Katie Bell. Every student from the Great Hall stares at them in amusement, and soon Albus Dumbledore joins the number of people smiling, urging Umbridge to relax for a moment. They all seem to be ecstatic, except for the Weasley twins, who stare at each other decidedly worried: _since when does Lee listen to and know the songs of the Weird Sisters by heart?_

⳧

  
"Did I really do that? " Lee's face sinks completely into the pillow, perhaps hoping to disappear forever. 

"For the fourth time, you really did serenade Katie Bell in the middle of the Great Hall," George reiterates, tossing one of the candies in his hands into the air. He stops and stares at it then, smiling: the color is from the latte he loves to drink in the morning and he knows, it's the same color as his Angelina's amber skin. Now that he thinks about it, it's not just the shade that makes him think of her, because he's sure that the taste in his mouth as he chewed on her tasted exactly like their first kiss. He sits up, just as Lee re-emerges from his hiding place and looks at him, "Did I really do that?" 

George ignores him, getting up quickly and setting the candy down in front of him, "Does this look like the time? I don't want to see one of those things ever again in my life." They both catch Fred's eye, who takes his attention off his Quidditch magazine - has Lee finally started to speak some different words? 

"The color, Jordan. What color do you see her in?" cringes George desperately. 

"It's black."

Fred raises an eyebrow, interested. He gets out of bed and sits next to Lee, taking the candy in his hand to get a better look at it: black isn't exactly the answer he would have expected. "What?" he hurries to ask his friend, making room for him. 

"Do you find it strange too?" to his brother's question, Fred nods, turning the candy over in his fingers. 

"Will you two enlighten me?"

"You see it black, I see it brownish," George sighs, scratching his shoulder gently, "I thought it odd that the color of the candy reminded me so much of... " 

"You can say that, you know." Fred smiles at him, as his twin's face turns a slight reddish hue, "After all, I think I caught you two one night, smooching in the middle of the castle corridors."

"You followed me?"

"I had other things to do that night, let's just say I killed two birds with one stone." George raises an eyebrow, intrigued, but Fred shakes his face, signaling the end of that conversation. He doesn't feel like explaining to him that he spent that evening in Hermione's company and caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye for a split second, because if he did, he'd also have to explain how he ended up making the rounds with a prefect. _Him, Fred Weasley, doing the rounds._

"So you mean to tell me that I see it as black because it's the same color as Katie's hair?" Lee scratches his head, rather confused, "What color do you see it as?" he finally asks Fred, who of all people here has yet to comment on the matter. He swallows, looking more closely at the candy in his hands, aware that he has seen that color once before, just once: at the Yule Ball Hermione wore it, or at least, wore a dress of that bluish hue. Or is it violet? He tilts his head, trying to remember Ginny's words on the matter. 

"So?"

"It's periwinkle, Fred." The twin helps him, seeing him clearly struggling. He takes a guess, but is sure of his choice. The memory of that night is still pressing in his mind: he had watched Fred's hand leave Angelina's and his gaze run to Hermione Granger. From that moment on, his twin had been completely lost, bewildered: someone had caught all of his attention.

Fred nodded, smiling, "Yes, it's periwinkle."

"I don't know anyone with hair that color though" Lee comments, causing the two Weasley brothers to laugh loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a translation, something I'm not so good at. If there are any errors, please let me know ❤.


	5. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I beg your pardon?" Ginny repeats the question, not moving a muscle. 
> 
> "When we gave you those candies and told you to take them without knowing the effects, even we weren't completely sure what they did." Fred finally confesses, coming to the twin's rescue. A hopeful smile breaks out on his face, and with one arm he strokes her right shoulder, as if to convince her that everything is going to be okay. 
> 
> "I beg your pardon?"
> 
> "You broke your sister, congratulations." Lee gives a brief round of applause, quickly ended by the look from the other two. 

"Ron, are you listening?" Hermione runs a hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention. The trio is seated in a corner of the Common Room: the young witch has appropriated the only free chair, while the other two have politely decided to sit on the reddish mat, resting their parchments on the small table. As much as they're trying to study, the youngest of the Weasleys' thoughts are completely elsewhere and he can't process his friend's question: once again he's surrounded by Lavender. He knows, he knows that the one passing a hand in front of his eyes is Hermione, he's sure of it, but all he can see is the blonde girl he's in love with. He nods with difficulty, blinking, trying to focus on the _Transfiguration_ task in front of him. 

"You told me you studied this afternoon, instead you still have to finish the paper." her friend scolds him, casting a glare in the direction of the Chosen One who has been laughing, "You're in the same position, Harry." They both know, Hermione is able to break the fun in seconds if there is a need to study and to be honest, considering it's almost bedtime, they know it's not a need, but an obligation. When they both get back to work, Hermione opens the book again with a relieved smile: once again she would save them from McGranitt's murderous rampage. 

Her wand turns yet another page of _History of Magic_ as she lets a yawn escape: that day was one of the most exhausting since the beginning of the year; not because of school, not because of Dumbledore's army, but just because of the constant thought that she had done something illegal that could have killed her or, worse, expelled her. Taking a signed Weasley twins product, with no idea what the consequences were, drove her insane. But, despite her recklessness, she hasn't developed any symptoms yet. 

She bites her lip, decidedly contrite. It never occurred to Fred...and George to invent something completely useless. Dangerous certainly, but non-functioning is difficult. They've always been good with spells and potions, she has to give them credit: they know so many formulas that even Hermione has always been a little jealous. She shakes her head, trying to focus on the paragraph in the book, which once again seems to have started dancing in front of her. She convinces herself again that she is tired, "Is it a problem if I let you two finish alone?" she then asks her two friends, hunched over their homework. Harry denies it, smiling sidelong at her, trying to find the mark on the page for the umpteenth time. 

"Don't worry, goodnight Lavender" Ron says, yawning. 

Hermione rests her feet on the ground, moving closer to her friend sitting on the floor, hoping to meet his gaze, "Excuse me?" she inquires, she's inches from his face when she finally stops, her hair falling back over her shoulders, touching her hands. She stares at her friend's eyes with suspicion, sure he's hiding a whole world, intent on wanting to find out: because Ron took that candy too and needs to know if something happened to him.

The youngest of the Weasleys begins to blush, also accomplice to that little distance, "I'm tired." He hurries to say, trying not to look even more awkward. His ears have turned the color of Gryffindor banners and he hurries to move a few inches away, leaning his back against the couch behind him, forcing a sixth year girl to move with a resounding sigh. He's afraid he's been hoeing his own feet and that he must now confess those feelings that are so new even to him, those effects that are so embarrassing. 

"We're all tired, it's rather late," cost Harry, running to his aid. 

"That's why I suggest you finish your task quickly and go to bed," Hermione concludes, mussing up the Chosen One's hair, "Good night, guys." she climbs the stairs with a heavy weight on her heart, sure that she hasn't found out as much as she would have liked, but it's not the case to torture her friends for her own problem. She smiles at the memory of the Weasley's flushed face: all of a sudden she realizes how similar he is to Fred, though the twin is more outlined, adult. She shakes off the myriad of curls, closing the chamber door behind him. 

When the figure of her friend disappears into the women's dormitory and Harry thinks enough time has passed, he turns to Ron, smiling wickedly, " _Lavender_?" he's obviously noticed that something has changed in the Weasley, since the year before precisely, but he's never had the time or inclination to bring it up. The other rolls his eyes, ending up smiling as well. Soon they both forget about the homework they have to turn in the next day, staying up late into the night chatting. 

Ron talks about how he fell in love with Lavender, how beautiful she is every day, and what that candy got him. Harry, more unsure about revealing his love secrets, tells him how happy he is about the creation of Dumbledore's army, but also how worried and tired he is. They both agree on the last word, getting up from the floor and proceeding quickly to the bedroom, some hoping to get up so they can see Lavender in her eyes once more, others sad because being able to look at Ginny's face is only a dream.

⳧

  
Ginny is frankly starting to think that the candy given to her by the twins was created through spells, rather than the usual funny magic. She's in love with Harry, would be with him all day, but listening to his thoughts all the time is starting to drive her crazy. Not that it's not Harry Potter fun in the mind, considering his cynical comments on Lavender Brown's hairstyle or the obvious comparisons between Hermione and Professor McGranitt: what drove her to the brink was the Chosen One's passion for tunes. At first it was pleasant, fabulous: it was like Harry was always there, like he was humming in her ear, playing with her reddish hair. But he was physically not there, and his whistling made it impossible for her to follow any kind of lesson. 

Whipped, Ginny gets up from her seat in the Common Room and approaches the twins in anger, "You have to do something" she says flatly, clenching her fists, "He won't leave." 

"Geneva dear... "

"Would you like to be a tad more specific?" George and Fred have always been aware of their sister's lack of patience, and when she gets angry or annoyed she starts talking in circles, unable to say anything at all. 

"I hear Harry's thoughts all the time though, it's unnerving to have two voices in your head." She tries to remain calm, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"I think I understand you" comments Fred tragically, pointing with his eyes to the figure of his twin who smiles mischievously. 

"Yeah but it's your fault." she points out, sitting down in front of the two, "You guys have to make him stop."

"You could stun Harry, but that would be a pretty drastic solution." Lee intrudes on the conversation, closing the magazine he's reading. 

Ginny raises an eyebrow, confused, "I beg your pardon?" she inquires in a tone of voice that reaches the birdsong outside her window, Jordan hurries to hide his face behind the pages as the twins begin to think of a defensive maneuver. 

"What our dearest friend is trying to tell you is that neither I, nor my fellow adventurer here at the side, are in a position to do anything about it" George says quietly, shrugging his shoulders: he looks at her carefully, would she kill them anytime soon? All in all, they've lived a good life in those few years, they almost deserve a break from all that daily chaos. 

"I beg your pardon?" Ginny repeats the question, not moving a muscle. 

"When we gave you those candies and told you to take them without knowing the effects, even we weren't completely sure what they did." Fred finally confesses, coming to the twin's rescue. A hopeful smile breaks out on his face, and with one arm he strokes her right shoulder, as if to convince her that everything is going to be okay. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"You broke your sister, congratulations." Lee gives a brief round of applause, quickly ended by the look from the other two. 

"Here, though, let's say it's helpful to know what kind of effects you've had: no one has heard someone else's voice in their mind before." George tries to reassure her, perhaps to no avail. Yet he strokes her hair as he used to do when the little girl of the house walked into their room with her eyes filled with tears from a nightmare. 

Ginny blinks a few times, "So you really have no idea how to shut him up." She concludes, truly calmed by the physical contact with the twins. 

"You can always consider Lee's offer, maybe knocking Harry out for a few hours will give you some relief."

"That's not funny." hisses Ginny, "You guys got that candy too though, what do you... I mean what do you hear?"

None of the twins open their mouths, they don't even try to get any sounds out, and saving them is Lee, who immolates himself for the two for no apparent reason, "Suffice it to say, one of those things had me singing in the Great Hall for five minutes."

"Great performance, by the way," Fred comments, winking at him. 

"George? Fred?" Ginny smiles at Lee, then returns her focus to her brothers, who seem increasingly reluctant to open their mouths on the subject: it's normal, she knows they've never been inclined to tell her such things, because she's the youngest, the most innocent.

"It's private stuff," George finally concludes, smiling at his sister, before standing up quickly, "Now that I remember, didn't we have that thing to do, Fred?" he asks him, giving him an unmistakable signal, quickly running to the portrait to exit the Common Room.

"You're not going to get away with this, you're going to have to tell me sooner or later," rages Ginny, just as Harry's voice resumes humming in her mind. Oh, _for Merlin's slippers._

⳧

  
The twins have fled the Common Room at lightning speed: evidently neither of them is ready to admit their symptoms yet. Not out loud, not in front of Ginny, not in front of Lee. Escaping that conversation, however, allows both of them to indulge in their favorite hobby: with a completely innocent manner, waving goodbye to Filch, they head for their little warehouse. There are still so many things to do, to put in place, so many things to think about. And that candy certainly is one of the priorities. 

"So?" George leans toward his twin with curiosity. 

Fred continues to swirl the potion in front of him with little emphasis, then wrenches the ladle desperately looking for a break, "So what?" 

"Ron sees Lavender popping up all over the place, Ginny's head is full of Harry Potter. It's not that it's an extraordinary thing, it was before too. It's just that now it's fuller than Harry Potter, it's like Harry..." 

"I get the idea, thank you." Cuts in the twin's words, sure he doesn't want to broach the subject of Ginny and the male community. Fred has always grown up with the idea of letting everyone be free to love and do what they want, but the idea of his little sister's heart beating for someone who isn't one of the brothers saddens him; he's incredibly jealous of it. 

"So why?" George shares the same thoughts, he too seems to have lost a part of himself, but he is heartened by the fact that Harry is the lucky one.

Fred rubs the muscle in his arm, completely lost, "You realize that's really not much to work with?"

"Well, what do you feel?" he asks him, obviously interested.

"I'm not really sure, sometimes I feel like, well, I sure know when she's thinking about me," Fred's gaze fades to the cauldron in front of him, in a blatant attempt to hide his embarrassment, "You?" 

"I don't feel anything," George says quietly, smiling, "I've been trying to test this candy, based on the effects found by Ron or Lee, but I don't seem to have any consequences: if I stand next to Angelina, I don't get anything, and if I stand away from her, neither do I."

Fred looks at him confused, picking up the candy recipe again, or at least what they think the candy recipe is.

Trying to remember the night their latest product came to life is quite a challenge indeed: the image in their minds is fuzzy, though it's clear that at some point both he and George and Lee reached into the warehouse, it's clear that they were laughing heartily, and it's unmistakable that Jordan at some point lost his balance, stumbling against the box of Sea Snacks, leaning against the table in a desperate attempt not to fall, instead causing the ready-made potions to spill into the lit cauldron. But what potions they were and in what quantity is a mystery: many of the test tubes broke on the ground, the rest disappeared into the boiling liquid. 

At that point Lee and the twins looked at each other, noting how hard it was to make out each other's faces with all the smoke that filled the room, but before they could deal with it, their attention is caught by the liquid in the cauldron, which suddenly became thick and began to move. Funny, that's the thought that went through Fred's mind. A relaxed thought, certainly due to his physical and mental condition. Soon, however, he realized the situation, raising his wand, searching his memory for a possible spell to stop that living thing. 

The same thing, with the same reaction time, clicked in George and Lee's minds: all three of them started casting spells on the potion, no longer potion, which simply came to life in the cauldron. When they felt satisfied, they looked at that creature, that poor soul, noting that no, it was no longer alive and no, it was no longer one. Dozens and dozens of candies lay inanimate in the cauldron, all glowing the same color. 

Fred shakes his head, sighing simultaneously with his twin, just as Lee peeps into their secret room, "I sang again as soon as I saw Katie, at least until Hermione started throwing bills at me to shut me up," he says, shuddering at the memory, "I mine at her study."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a translation, something I'm not so good at. If there are any errors, please let me know ❤.


	6. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She bites her bottom lip, because her mind knows full well what she would have wanted to cling to: she would have passed her arms around Fred's torso, to cross her hands in front of his chest and lean her head against his back. She wonders for a moment how intense the boy's scent might be at such proximity. Then she remembers to breathe, opening the new book in front of her. 

Hermione, having withdrawn her wand and officially removed Lee Jordan from the Common Room, opens the _Potions_ book again, fiddling with the ends of her hair. She has decided that afternoon to get on with her studies, commanding her mind to be quiet. She fixes her attention on one of the lessons she is sure Snape is planning to explain in a few weeks; she tilts her neck a few degrees, leaning her temple against the back of the chair, immersing herself completely in her reading. 

For a moment, it seems like everything is falling into place: has a miracle happened? Harry and Ron headed to the Quidditch pitch, Lee went to sing beyond the Fat Lady's painting, Fred Weasley didn't show up for all of... She blinks, visibly impressed. Since when is Fred Weasley one of her first thoughts? And why, again, are the words on his book dancing across the page? She shakes her head, running a hand over her face in a desperate attempt to make sure everything is normal, but before she can cast a glance at the potion recipe, Ginny steals all of her attention. 

"We need to talk" she whispers, sitting down right in front of her. Hermione raises an eyebrow, closing the book, sitting composedly in the chair and then leaning towards her friend. For a moment, precisely, everything went right. 

"What's going on?"

Ginny bites her bottom lip, still unsure of that choice: is it stupid to confess this to Hermione? Would it have helped her? Would she have freaked out? Probably yes, she would have gone ballistic, stamped her feet and killed the twins. In fact, now that she thinks about it more, confessing to her that she had Harry Potter on her mind is not a brilliant move. Yet her body, from being in the room, has moved to the Common Room and her mind moves her lips to ask for help from Hermione Granger, the most exceptional witch of her age: it's desperation, if she heard just one more Harry Potter tune, she'd start tearing her hair out. 

"Ginny?" Hermione comes even closer, almost counting the freckles on her face, intrigued. 

"I have to tell you something, but you have to promise me a couple of things: no yelling and no killing the twins." she figured, there was a high chance that Fred and George would pop up in the conversation sooner or later: Hermione had noticed her friend's strange behavior in the previous days, but waited for her to make the first move. She nodded, resting her head on her palm to make herself more comfortable. 

"I have Harry Potter in my head," Ginny confesses, as her face turns a vivid red. 

The other one blinks for a few seconds: she's absolutely sure that the Chosen One is at the Quidditch pitch with Ron, "What?" she asks precisely, tightening her lips. 

"I mean... Oh, Merlin. I can hear him thinking, all day, ever since I took Fred and George's candy." Hermione freezes for a few seconds, then lets out a strange mumbling. "You can say it: go ahead and say I was wrong and that you shouldn't accept things from my brothers," Ginny curses, rolling her eyes. Hermione tries to push away the negative thoughts in the deepest part of her mind: she stopped because of fear, not pride, after all she took that damn candy too. She begins to wonder why she hasn't heard anything yet, no thoughts, no other voices. 

"Have you talked to them about it?" she struggles to ask, focusing on her friend's problem, leaving speculation to wait. 

Ginny nods in despair, "They told me there's nothing they can do now, that's why I came to you: Hermione I beg of you, Harry is singing all the time and I have to shut him up."

She tries hard not to laugh: the image of the chosen one singing is adorable, but she understands that it's not pleasant to hear all day. But if Fred and George weren't able to do anything, what could she come up with? She could have gone to the library, maybe she would have found something. She strokes Ginny's hair, "I'll do whatever I can to help."

⳧

  
Fred closes his eyes, decidedly distraught. He longs to touch the bed more than anything else in the universe, but when he meets eyes with George a few moments later, he realizes he's hopeless. He's forgotten, it's true: the Gryffindor senior is planning a little party in the Room of Requirement that night, to remember those sweet moments at Hogwarts, to start saying goodbye. He runs a hand over his face, banishing the weariness. That's certainly the reason why, as he turns the corner, he doesn't see Hermione Granger coming. They bump into each other involuntarily and a second passes before their eyes cross and mingle together. 

Ron and Harry disappear from the girl's mind, just as George seems to be only a distant memory: have they ever exchanged such an intense gaze with someone else? They come back down to earth, when the younger of the Weasley siblings pulls Hermione by the sleeve of her sweater and she breaks - unwillingly - that eye contact. Neither of them knows why, yet their relationship seems to have evolved into something more: were they becoming friends? It wasn't strange, during summer break, to intercept the two bickering in the kitchen, studying together in the living room, and laughing in the attic.

The image of Hermione is still etched in Fred's mind as he downs yet another glass of Incendiary Whiskey: the heat grips his throat, soon warming the rest of his body as well. 

"I don't remember it being this potent," Katie Bell comments tragically, shaking her head. Lee leaves two quick pats on her back, smiling at her: he's glad he snuck her into the party because he knows that, without her, he would have had half the fun.

"If you hadn't ended up in detention with Snape during junior year, you wouldn't have even had to drink it," Angelina mischievously points out to her, still completely sober. 

"It was George's fault!"

The twin, feeling taken aback, smiles innocently, "But you got grounded that time, not me."

"Well then I'll raise you: I've never kissed a Quidditch player," Katie says quietly, raising her eyebrow mischievously, happily observing both the twins and Angelina fill their glasses with more Whiskey. 

It wouldn't be the last one in any case, Fred and George would have a conspicuous number of drinks before the end of the night, only getting beaten by the faithful Lee Jordan, who somehow has a dirtier record than they do. Yes, that year he illegally flew outside the confines of Hogwarts and the year before that he took a dip in the school lake, naked. They all three laugh at the memory of chilled Jordan, running to his clothes left on the grass, while a group of Hufflepuff girls try to get his attention in every way, hoping to get a hand wave in response, to get them away from certain nether regions. 

And they laugh even harder, remembering George hanging like a salami upside down in the middle of one of the Hogwarts corridors, due to a prank gone wrong. They continue to snicker even after saying goodbye to their other friends, and then quickly make their way to their closet, where their laughter is soon interrupted, when Lee stumbles upon a box of Sea Snacks and tries - in his lack of lucidity - to grab the first thing he can, which is the table with all the potions ready: from the most common love potions, among the many bottles, there are also ampoules of Confusing concoctions and decoctions to create funny illusions. 

At first Fred and George don't understand, their minds are too slowed down, but as soon as they manage to connect, here they both desperately shout Lee's name, exactly when the potions break a bit on the ground and the others fall into the boiling cauldron, already filled with some new concoction. 

They look at each other, undecided about what to do, as their vision worsens due to the smoke rising in the room, so much so that at first they don't notice that the liquid has begun to move. Horrified, the three instinctively pull out their wands, casting an endless series of silent spells. An excellent first move, in hindsight, because it's definitely unlikely to remember them all, eliminating any chance of recreating or recognizing how and in what way those candies were created. The excellent second move happens a few days later, when George, obviously angry and frustrated, gets up and walks over to the box containing the candy. He takes one and turns it over in his hand a couple of times, undecided. He promised Fred he wouldn't try it, but the curiosity is too much. 

The twin reaches for it exactly when the candy disappears into the other's mouth, "You're hopeless, you know that?"  


⳧

Hermione racked her brains all afternoon that Saturday, opened half the books on spells, but still no solution. She closes yet another tome, letting a long sigh escape: she promised Ginny she would do everything she could, literally everything she could to help her in some way, but trying to solve an unknown problem, she realizes, is difficult. 

She takes her mind off that puzzle, leaning her head against the back of the chair, closing her eyes: she tries to imagine the autumn air on her face. Perhaps if she had left the library now, she would still have made time for a little ride around the lake. She would have sat on one of the many stones, hiding her nose under her scarf, trying to figure out where the sky begins and the water ends. Although she had already spent an entire afternoon thinking about it, she still didn't have an answer: maybe she should have taken Fred's advice. They really could have flown over the lake together that day, making sure they found a boundary line, but Hermione refused to get on a broom: where would she hang on? 

She bites her bottom lip, because her mind knows full well what she would have wanted to cling to: she would have passed her arms around Fred's torso, to cross her hands in front of his chest and lean her head against his back. She wonders for a moment how intense the boy's scent might be at such proximity. Then she remembers to breathe, opening the new book in front of her. 

Trying to silence the voice inside a person's mind is a really specific request, even Ginny realized, and as much as there are all kinds of spells, that one is especially hard to come by. There are silence spells, but they are used on a person, not their thoughts. Hermione bites her lip, rubbing a page between the fingers of her right hand. 

When Ginny hopefully reaches her, she realizes how much her friend has done for her: she finds her immersed in a book, with two stacks of ancient tomes beside her, "Don't you think you've gone too far?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and setting her bag down on the table. 

"I promised I'd do whatever it takes" Hermione says quietly, smiling contentedly. 

"Did you find anything?" Ginny lifts her hair into a rather high tail, pulling her _Potions_ book out of her bag to study.

"It's a temporary spell, there's not even a duration marked on it: it looks like it was invented by an ancient wizard, tired of being distracted by his own thoughts and wanting to concentrate on his work. I think it's something, though." Hermione tries to smile, tilting her face a few degrees. Still, Ginny is really excited, even a minute's break would be wonderful. 

"Let's find out." She urges her, placing the feather on the counter and moving a stack of her friend's tomes a little closer. 

" _Tace_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a translation, something I'm not so good at. If there are any errors, please let me know ❤.


	7. Chapter six

Ginny got up with a light heart. Hermione has managed to find her - admittedly, temporarily - a solution to her unbearable problem. She smiles, sitting down at the breakfast table; as she does so, there is only the sound of her thoughts accompanying her. She looks up at the Chosen One, perhaps because she realizes that starting the day without a second voice is not the same thing as trying not to laugh at Ron's disheveled quiff or Hermione's lack of tact in the early morning.

She realizes that most of all she misses Harry, Harry of whom she has begun to know everything: his favorite places, the subjects he studies most easily, his class schedules, his past, his present. She knows everything, yet she always wants to know more. Sometimes she thinks that it's not enough anymore, that the Chosen One's voice in her mind has become too little: she needs the whole package, she doesn't just want to hear Harry, she wants to touch him, hold his hand, know that he's looking for her. To know that, maybe, she has a tiny place in his mind too. 

Even so, the first quiet in a long time she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world: to hear only his thoughts, only his voice booming in her head, is something she's always taken for granted. As she finishes serving the eggs on her plate, Hermione sits down in front of her, throwing a quick smile at Ron and Harry, then opening the new copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , searching with one eye for the pumpkin juice. 

"You're an angel," Ginny tells her, pouring her a glass of the drink in deference, "I could kiss you."

Her brother and the Chosen One look up, obviously interested and confused. _Them_? Kissing each other? Harry's mind begins to race: he's in love with Ginny, Hermione has never expressed interest. On the contrary, she always seems to be the first to side with them. The first to say that together they would be formidable, beautiful, funny, right. Wrinkles appear on his forehead, as he takes his gaze from one - which he can clearly see very well - to the other - hidden by a halo of fog -. He closes her eyes, bitter. He wishes he could have seen the expression on Ginny's face, to know whether or not his had been a joke, at least Harry's heart wouldn't have been bothered. 

"You're welcome," Hermione was fast to add, thanking her with a quick shake of her head, "I didn't do anything exceptional." Believing she's done with the conversation, she rests her lips on her glass of pumpkin juice, concentrating on the first newspaper article in her hands, then nibbling on a slice of toast. 

"Nonsense, you were my savior." Ginny pounces, having swallowed her eggs quickly, drawing the attention of the twins and Lee Jordan, sitting a few seats away as well. 

"What are you two babbling about?" As soon as he's managed to swallow the morsel in his mouth, Ron intrudes on the conversation. 

The two of them look at each other suddenly, realizing for the first time that they are exposed, blatantly in the crosshairs of interest of all their friends. Their gaze is one of understanding: they have promised each other not to spill the beans, a little secret to keep from driving everyone else crazy. It was already amazing that Hermione didn't freak out, but it's better not to risk it, especially with Harry, "It's stuff... " Ginny hastens to explain, flashing a small smile on her lips, while all she can hear in her mind is the sound of her laughter. 

"Definitely private." concludes Hermione, finishing the contents of her glass in one breath and getting up from the table: she's had a short breakfast, but all too intense. Fred's gaze, pressing down on her, is driving her crazy. Ginny follows her, smiling at her brothers and Harry, worrying before taking a slice of bread and jam in her hands: she would eat it standing up, away from uncomfortable eyes and questions. 

"They're getting worse than you are," Lee comments, letting out a laugh. George runs a hand through his hair: since when do Ginny and Hermione finish each other's sentences? No one can take the record away from him and Fred, not so easily, but before he can stop them, the two of them have already disappeared out the door of the Great Hall, letting out a hearty laugh. 

"Did you see the look on Harry and Ron's faces when I said I was going to kiss you?" 

Hermione wouldn't normally know how to answer that question, but a strange fire in her stomach forced it on her, "For your information Ginny, I'm a very good kisser. "

They burst out laughing again, genuinely. Their bond has become easier, less forced than in previous years: they appreciate each other, help each other. That's why the young Weasley asked her, because she knew he wouldn't leave her floundering in Harry Potter tunes, "Are you sure you want to tell me, though?" he asks her, raising his lips mischievously as they reach the stairs. Hermione's face turns a strange shade as she stops in the middle of the steps. 

"Guinevere Weasley, what are you... "

She can't finish her sentence because her friend bursts out laughing again, "Relax, Hermione: I was just teasing you."

Easy words to say sure, but they entered the older one's mind with a disruptive force: would she have wanted to say it to someone? _Certainly_. She blinks, watching Ginny advance towards the hallway, "Aren't you coming?" Hermione silences that new voice, beginning to consider shushing her thoughts with some spell as well, to have a few hours of calm, then following her friend with a fake smile on her lips. 

⳧

  
Ron bangs his head against the book, distraught: Lavender is driving him crazy. Not so much Lavender as that infernal machine devised by the Weasley twins. He's had enough; the only Lavender he'd like to see is the real thing. Not just see, of course: he'd like to caress her face, pass an arm around her belly, mirror himself in her eyes, kiss her softly. He shakes his head, sure that by now his face has become the same color as a tomato. _Misery_. He shifts his gaze to Harry and Hermione, who are a few steps away from him. He wonders how it is possible that nothing has happened to them yet, why aren't they confused too? 

The wheels in his mind begin to move frantically as he turns the corner: he's in love with Lavender, it's obvious. He's known it for months now, ever since the two met during the Yule Ball the year before and started dancing. Maybe that's it, the simple fact that he's in love with someone and his friends aren't yet. Ignited by his new hypothesis, he hastens his pace, slipping in between the two, who glare at him. 

"Ronald, I was trying to explain to Harry why he should have given the potion six rounds and not eight," Hermione resumed him, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"There's nothing to explain, if I'm right," the other hastens to comment, stubbornly. 

"You would be right, if your potion was successful."

"Guys." tries to calm things down Ron, running his hands over his two friends' shoulders, "I have a question for you." Finally, Harry and Hermione cross their gazes, quickly excusing themselves: fighting over a potion is stupid. They place all their attention on the redhead, raising an eyebrow each, to invite him to begin. 

"I was wondering, do you guys like anyone?"

They suddenly freeze in the hallway, forcing Ron to brake abruptly. He passes them by a few feet, and when he turns around, he clearly notices how the situation has suddenly changed: he's sure he can cut through the air with a knife. The Chosen One shifted his gaze to the side, guilty: he could never have said that, not in such a situation. "Look, _I'm frankly in love with Ginny, like Ginny your sister, the one I meet in your house every time you have me over in the summer, you know that Ginny_?" 

Hermione, on the other end, has not taken her eyes off Ron's face. She is simply motionless, the only thing that again moves restlessly are her own damn thoughts. She likes a lot of people, to be precise, an infinite number of people. She hurries to close lips she's sure she didn't mean to open. She would have said that name, for no particular reason, but she would have exclaimed it at the top of her lungs. 

"What the hell are you babbling about?" she finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

"It was just an innocent question." apologizes Ron, as the others pick up the pace and catch up with him. Harry helps him put back his shoulder strap, which has barely fallen over his shoulder. 

"You know who else is going to ask innocent questions? McGonagall, when we're late for Transfiguration." comments Hermione tragically, passing her friends, increasing the speed of her steps to get to the classroom sooner. 

"You'll have to answer to her, at least." Hermione rolls her eyes, turning to face Ron just as he's turning the corner - which is why she doesn't notice Draco coming the other way, with whom she clashes. 

"Granger, you should try to watch where you're going," the Slytherin says, putting his disheveled uniform back on, "Walking shouldn't be such a difficult activity for you."

Hermione looks at him intently, undecided whether to ignore his dig or follow that oh devil instinct that's been igniting her body lately. Responding in kind to Draco Malfoy is a dream she's had for as long as she can remember, despite the fact that she's already managed to shut him up with a punch straight to the face. Harry to the side stiffens, grabbing her by the sleeve to keep from fighting in the middle of the hallway, "We have to go to class, Hermione." he reminds her, bringing her back to the real world. Ron just glares at Draco and his friends, following the Chosen One and the girl towards the Transfiguration classroom. 

"We should go to class, too," Parkinson interjects, trying to get the Slytherin's attention, but Draco is thinking about something else, his eyes still on Hermione and his fists clenched. He's thinking about Granger's gaze from earlier, so intense and pugnacious, so pointed. Looking into her eyes, being mirrored in those eyes, filled him with a blinding rage. Because those eyes are beautiful and it's a shame to be able to look at them up close for so little, every time.


	8. Chapter seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She gets lost looking at the line between the water and the sky. Separate, but similar, like her and Fred. Distant, but glued together by an imperceptible thread. She noticed it that summer, as they both chose to drink tea in the morning, as they climbed to the top floor of the house on Grimmauld Place, to see the city from above and think about what it would be like to walk those streets, to laugh on those streets. And Fred, as he talked about it, sounded like a child. Hermione understood him, because that wasn't his home, the traffic lights weren't his home, the streets, the cars, the streetlights weren't his home. 

Leaving the Ancient Runes classroom, Hermione realizes that she is free for the afternoon. She hides the books she's holding in her hands inside her shoulder strap and begins to weigh her options: having nothing to do is a new, almost frightening feeling. No lessons to study in advance - she's already used them all up -, no assignments to spend hours on - she's already finished them -. It can only be Hermione, on a strange afternoon at Hogwarts. 

She runs her hands behind her back, casting her gaze out the window: the chill of the day clashes perfectly with the warm, fighting sun that came out that morning. She smiles, knowing that she has found the solution: it would be the last time, before the harsh cold of winter, that she would be able to sit by the lake. She hurries as she pulls her scarf out of her bag and runs towards the exit. 

The sun hits her face, warming her body. The lake is beautiful when the mountains are reflected in it, and it is easier to understand the line between water and sky. Viktor had pointed it out to her the year before, during one of their long afternoons: Hermione's gaze was soon lost in observing the passage in front of her and the other smiled at her. She had always liked Viktor, from the first moment she had laid her eyes on him: a nice, genuine boy. With him laughing and talking had always been natural, so much so that they had agreed to stay in touch even after the Yule Ball. But it was a relationship of friendship, Hermione had made that clear from the start. For love, she had said to herself after kissing Viktor, there was still time. It was a phrase that was repeated often even the same summer, not because of all the letters she received from the Bulgarian, but because of the laughter with Fred. 

Fred, who was always present in her life as an extra, slowly colored everything around her. At first Hermione was reticent, because Fred is well... Fred, but then she began to appreciate his small gestures of affection, to appreciate his way of thinking and the sound of his laughter. At the same time she also noticed the tone of his voice, so warm, the mole at the base of his neck, the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the new Weasley product, the movement of his fingers around the cup of... 

Hermione shakes her head, biting her bottom lip. What's been happening to her lately? Whenever she's free to let her thoughts flow, Fred is one of the first things on her mind. Always him, constantly him. She runs a strand of hair behind her ear, looking up at the lake. .

She gets lost looking at the line between the water and the sky. Separate, but similar, like her and Fred. Distant, but glued together by an imperceptible thread. She noticed it that summer, as they both chose to drink tea in the morning, as they climbed to the top floor of the house on Grimmauld Place, to see the city from above and think about what it would be like to walk those streets, to laugh on those streets. And Fred, as he talked about it, sounded like a child. Hermione understood him, because that wasn't his home, the traffic lights weren't his home, the streets, the cars, the streetlights weren't his home. 

So she'd stand there, after Fred had finished practicing the last product spell and she had finished yet another chapter of _History of Magic_ , to tell him more, to tell him what he couldn't see from that window. Although, she had scolded him many times, he could have simply taken a course in Muggle Studies. 

But he would laugh and ask her to tell him more, about the plumbing, how the cooking fires worked, the lights. Sometimes it seemed that he didn't even listen to her, because at a certain point he would pick up his wand and start practicing again without too much effort. Turning a cup into a book - Hermione never asked him what he was going to use that spell for -, making ink evanescent on a newly written parchment, making flowers appear here and there around the room. But Fred really listened to her, asked her from time to time to talk more, until George came to interrupt them and either took him away or sat with them, being forced by Granger to study something rather than waste time doing nothing. 

Hermione picks up a stone under her feet and throws it into the water, breaking her thoughts, trying to erase Fred from her head, but she realizes it's impossible: since she got to know him better everything has become frantic, colorful, crazy. Has she fallen in love?

⳧

  
Fred's heart begins to beat non-stop. It's not that it hurts, it's not that he's about to have a heart attack. In fact, that throbbing makes him euphoric: Hermione is thinking about him again. And precisely, she's really, really thinking about him. 

"What are you grinning like a demented person for?" inquires Lee. George probably would have asked him, if he hadn't left them alone to go see Angelina, who's been admitted to the infirmary for a couple of days due to Malfoy and Tiger bewitching her broom during the Gryffindor team's last practice. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I said, what are you grinning like a demented person for?" tries Jordan again, but shakes her head when the twin is lost again. It's like talking to a wall. 

"I'll see you at dinner, okay, Lee?" finally delivers Fred, clutching the book from the previous lesson in his left hand, greeting his friend with his free one, and beginning to walk frantically in the opposite direction. 

All of a sudden he has a sudden urge to see Hermione smile, and to see Hermione smile, first of all he has to find her. A strange instinct tells Fred to head for the lake, where he finds her sitting on a large boulder. From a distance he sees her throw a stone into the water, then raise her head upwards, closing her eyes. Fred approaches her calmly, resting his chin in the hollow of the girl's shoulder who gasps in fright, but when she recognizes him a small amused grimace is painted on her face. 

"You gave me a heart attack" she says anyway, in a blatant attempt to scold him. She's trying to calm her emotions: she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him for ten minutes and suddenly he pops up at her side, with his usual mischievous smile. She can't show him her surprise, her shyness. She must try to take control of the situation, to avoid falling into a bottomless abyss: she can't risk Fred finding her different, asking her why she's different, why she blushes more than usual, why she stutters, why she's less Hermione and more Ron. 

She shakes her head imperceptibly, mentally slapping herself in the face as the boy raises an eyebrow, "You seem to be in perfect condition, Hermione" as soon as he says her name, she saves the sound of it: has he always looked this good? 

"What do you need, Weasley?" the girl asks at that point, turning her back on him again to observe the lake, hoping to calm her own emotions. 

Fred positions himself in front of her, understanding the landscape she has so hoped to immerse herself in, "Are we back to last name?" his voice is indignant and he leans towards her, prying at the rock. 

"I never called you by your first name."

"You could start, Hermione." Fred smiles at her, studying her face. He's never been this close to her before, it's a strange feeling. It's like his stomach is dancing a dance he doesn't know the moves to. He's been watching her, watching her all summer. In the morning, when she came down to breakfast and asked him if he'd made tea for her, too; in the afternoon, as she stared out the window absentmindedly, searching her mind for a more interesting word to write in her Transfiguration paper; in the evening, when they were all standing in the living room reminiscing about the twins' latest prank on Sirius and she was laughing. But so close, so close that he could study the color of her irises, it never was. 

She rolls her eyes, noting that yes, when the boy says her name, the latter becomes more muted. 

"What do you need, Weasley?"

"Fred." she pivots, getting closer and closer.

"Weasley."

"Fred." the boy's voice is a lost whisper as he notices his nose is brushing against Hermione's. He's sure his ears have begun to turn a tepid red, so he pulls away, just as she looks away in embarrassment. What has gotten into her? Playing with the twin is an easy defeat. 

"I saw you all alone, I wanted to raise the suggestion of flying over the lake in case you were free," he says mischievously, hiding his hands in his pockets. 

For Hermione, it must be the month of oh, screw it, because just as she accepted the twins' candy a few days earlier, she now challenges herself and climbs onto Fred's spell-called Cleansweep, "I wouldn't want to be singled out as the culprit for your death." he points out, a few seconds before pulling away from the ground. 

"What?" Hermione leans toward him, confused. 

But Fred doesn't answer her; he reaches for her hands and runs them around his belly, bringing the girl's body closer to his own. The young woman's pulse stops for a second as her face falls back onto her twin's back and his scent fills her nostrils. She's smelled him before, hasn't she? 

"Ready?" Fred can feel Hermione's hands tighten around him and smiles. 


	9. Chapter eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ginny's not in focus." the Chosen One finally lets slip, sitting distraught on Fred's bed and taking his face in his hands, "I swear I wish it wasn't Ginny, it's so complicated that it's Ginny and to tell you it's Ginny... Oh, Merlin." 
> 
> "Get a grip." George laughed, taking the candy in his hand and approaching the other, "First of all, what color do you see her as?"
> 
> "Red."
> 
> "Red like the color of my hair?" George sneers, knowing full well where this is going. In fact, Harry blushes heavily on his cheeks. 

George Weasley closes the bedroom door behind him and tosses the shoulder strap onto the desk with a snap. He has just left Angelina in the infirmary with Katie, having spent a good half hour with her lying beside her in the infirmary bed. He smiles at the memory of his hand tickling the girl's skin, at the lips crashing nicely against the young woman's. He fell in love with her early in his fourth year, growing deeper and deeper at the Stump Ball, until he asked her to be his girlfriend a few weeks later. Just like that, of course. 

There was always something about Angelina that intrigued him: her laugh, the way she shook her head, making even her hair move, her smile, her brown eyes. That's why, when Fred stopped feeling interest, he immediately went for it: there was no way he was going to let her get away again. He sits on his bed, pushing Angelina out of his mind to focus on the candy on his nightstand. It took a couple of days, but he finally figured out why of effects he felt none. 

He studied Ginny, his favorite sister, who sees and hears nothing but the Chosen One: smitten since she began to speak, it's no wonder the candy put Harry in her head. Then Lee confessed to him one night, while Fred had already been asleep for a few minutes, that he can't live without Katie, that she's extraordinary when she plays Quidditch, that she's the only one he ever looks at from the stands, that she's funny, that she's beautiful. And as soon as he chews that candy, he only sings when he sees her. 

In the same way he followed Ron, although at first George couldn't understand: it was strange that he had effects related to Lavender Brown. But he had been watching him in the previous days, from around corners: with his reddish ears, his stammering, his heartbroken sighs every time the Lavender greeted is anything but a Lavender - and therefore does not greet him back. He had the latest proof when, in the Common Room, his eye fell on Ron's Potions paper, where the girl's name was imprinted in cubic letters. He imagined Snape's shocked face for a moment, concluding that yes, Ron was head over heels in love.

George, now engaged for months, doesn't need the candy to fill his head, doesn't need to see Angelina everywhere. His feelings are already public knowledge, not secrets in the hearts of those who may not yet have the courage to come forward. For example, he's sure Fred is now on another planet, full of Hermione Granger. He's never seen him so elated by someone's presence, never so happy to see a girl, never such a dumbfounded smile on his face. Could it be that he hasn't noticed it yet? He scratches his head, thinking for a moment about the fact that Hermione ingested that candy too, but before he can go on speculating, there's a knock on his door.

"Do you need anything?" George scratches his chest, motioning Harry into the room. 

"I figured he'd be gone after a few days, but since he's not coming by I came to ask," the Chosen One begins, standing, "It's annoying, not seeing."

"Elaborate better, Harry."

"I'm saying, ever since I ate that candy, sometimes my eyesight drops suddenly and I can't put anything in focus anymore." 

"When does that happen to you?" George lets himself go like dead weight on the bed, paying attention to the other, who looks increasingly desperate. He won't say it, can't say it: he realizes it was stupid to come to the twins. Bloody hell, it's Ginny. He realized that it must have had something to do with the fact that he loved her more than expected, and that's why he can't get a word out of his mouth now. 

"Harry, if you want me to help you, you have to tell me," George realized on the fly, smiling slightly as if to reassure him. 

"Ginny's not in focus." the Chosen One finally lets slip, sitting distraught on Fred's bed and taking his face in his hands, "I swear I wish it wasn't Ginny, it's so complicated that it's Ginny and to tell you it's Ginny... Oh, Merlin." 

"Get a grip." George laughed, taking the candy in his hand and approaching the other, "First of all, what color do you see her as?"

"Red."

"Red like the color of my hair?" George sneers, knowing full well where this is going. In fact, Harry blushes heavily on his cheeks. 

"Listen to me, I have no idea how to get your sight back, but since you're the first one who appeared to ask me for help, I'd say we can try a couple of things." she proposes to him in a sweet, surely disguised tone: the Chosen One is clay in his hands, on him he can experiment as much as he wants and possibly find a solution to the problem. He's not the first, of course, but the first to come to him alone: Fred for the moment must not come to terms with it, first he must come to terms with his own feelings. 

"George, what the hell are you up to?"

  
⳧

  
Ginny had a quiet, exciting afternoon. Since coming into possession of the spell to silence Harry, her life has returned to normal. There are times when the solution stops working, she waits to silence the new voice for a few hours, because she has to admit that hearing Harry speak is a truly lovely thing. 

She's followed him in his Quidditch reading, his sporadic fight with Hermione - in which Ginny undoubtedly proved her friend right -, listened to his thoughts on Ron's crush on Lavender, and understood that yes, Harry does have a problem with her. The first morning after eating the candy, she had realized that the Chosen One was not seeing her well, as if a whole cloud was obscuring her. She had wondered if she was the cause, a counter effect of the candy, or if it was Harry himself. 

She bites her lip, confused. She'd like to know if her feelings is reciprocated - that would be amazing, but it's not like the world can turn on its head at any moment, like water freezing at a hundred degrees, like Hermione is coming down from Fred's broomstick. Wait, what? 

Ginny hides behind one of the trees, casting a glance at the two laughing men. The girl's cheeks are flushed, while her twin is ecstatic. 

"I'll hold the book for you, so you only have to bring the broom," Hermione suggests, stowing the manual in her shoulder strap, while Fred thanks her and musses her hair. The curly-haired woman blushes more and more at the contact and Ginny notices, even though the former does her best to hide her face inside her bag. 

"You seem to have enjoyed the tour, Hermione." 

"I wouldn't take that for granted, _Fred_."

It makes sense that water can't freeze at a hundred degrees, but if Hermione got on a broomstick with Fred, why can't Harry be in love with her? She smiles, passing a strand of hair behind her ear, gloating. Her day definitely got better, exactly when Harry started singing one of his favorite songs again. And yet, she's starting to like him, too. 

⳧

  
Ron sends everything to hell: his Transfiguration assignment, the punishment Snape assigned him after reading Lavender's name between the lines of the parchment he was given, Fred and George's laughter at the news, and their damn candy. He closes the book as someone sits in front of him in the Common Room. When he looks up, he logically finds himself in front of Lavender, who has an unsure smile. 

"Who are you?" he asks, running a hand over his face. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, who are you?" Ron tries again; he's not about to mistake anyone else for Lavender, not after McGonagall takes him back, because it's obviously not fun to compare her to a young student, considering her age. 

"Lavender."

The boy looks up at her, with a lump in his throat, "Lavender?"

"Lavender" she confirms, opening her shy smile, turning it into a happy one. 

"Do you... Do you need anything?" Ron is hyperventilating. He's not ready: he just screwed everything up, he still has to recover from that. Coming face to face with his biggest problem is a step he doesn't know how to tackle yet. 

"A lot of strange things have been happening lately," she begins, "I had read it in the leaves of my tea, something this week was going to surprise me. At first I thought it was the fact that my hair wasn't as perfect as usual. Can you blame me, then again? My hair is always fine, yet the other day I woke up and... "

Ron stops following her at one point, not so much out of boredom as out of surprise at having her in front of him and the realization that this - by necessity - had to be the real Lavender. He's watching her skin, her mole above her lip, listening to her suave voice. He pinches himself under the table, noting that no, this is not a dream. 

"I say, do you understand me?" concludes Lavender, shaking her head. Ron nods, improvising a fake smile. He didn't follow a comma of that speech, the only thing he can do now is pretend, "I knew you'd understand me, but still, I don't think it's the hair." she concludes, smiling, "You've been greeting every living thing for a few days now mistaking them for me, is everything okay?"

Ron suddenly feels himself sinking, or at least he really wants to sink. How to try to explain? He scratches his head, letting a mumbling escape, "I... Here... "

Lavender raises an eyebrow, genuinely interested. 

"Ron! Light of my eyes, fifth favorite brother, I've been looking for you all afternoon," George begins, waving Lavender over, "Is it okay if I steal him from you, cookie?" he asks her, making her blush on her cheeks. 

"Fifth out of six isn't bad." comments Harry, following closely behind his twin and shrugging at his best friend in an attempt to make him feel better. 

"Do you really need me?" the tone from Ron is heavy: right now when he's looking at Lavender? He rolls his eyes as George nods with conviction. 

"Not that you're doing wonderfully, think of it as an attempt to save yourself." Lavender licks her lips, shaking her head and turning back to her friends, while Ron is kidnapped and taken towards the boys' dormitory, the fifth year one: a place where, possibly, Fred wouldn't come looking for them just yet. 

"May I ask what you need?" the youngest of the Weasleys asks, crossing his arms over his chest, exhibiting a contrite grimace. 

"I wanted to know something." starts George, showing him the candy, "What colors do you see it in?"

"It's pink, why?"

"I see it brownish, which is exactly the color of Angelina's skin," the twin calmly explains, "I'm guessing pink is Lavender's favorite color."

"Even if it is?" Ron raises an eyebrow, still annoyed at being interrupted during his grandiose attempt to explain to Lavender that he... loves her? He shakes his head, returning his attention to his brother, who has stood up. 

"It means that the candy gets colored depending on who the person you have feelings towards is, and that's a pretty interesting thing."

"Frankly, I thought you already knew that," Ron commented, making himself more comfortable on the bed, forgetting about Lavender. 

"Oh right... " George sketches a wicked smile, closing his hand tightly, hiding the candy from everyone's view. 

"They have no idea how it came to be or what kind of effects it has," Harry hurries to explain, who has only managed to digest the information in the last half hour: he could have died for real, other than Voldemort. 

Ron freezes, looking terrified at his brother, who seconds later manages to dodge the pillow being thrown at him, " You're crazy!" he yells, "Oh, Merlin."

"I told you he'd freak out." comments Harry, smiling at his friend, then patting him on the back a couple of times. 

"We haven't killed anyone."

"Not yet," Ron corrects him, "Who else knows? Ginny? _Hermione_? Oh, when Hermione finds out you guys will be dead and buried." 

"You definitely seem concerned about it," George laughs, sitting down on Harry's bed, "Now that you've passed the first stage, let me continue: beyond the color, it's indicative that you see Lavender all over the place, the point that's pressing me is, how long will you see her?"

"It presses me, too, if I'm being honest," blurts Ron, making the Chosen One smile. 

"Maybe the effects are temporary, maybe something has to happen to make them go away," speculates George, already tired of the situation. That's why they prefer experiment only on the two of them, it's easier to investigate, less time is wasted.

"Kidnapping me from the Common Room is a great way to find out."

"Don't look at me, Harry insisted on making you a part of it." George raises a finger at the brunette, who has no way to protect himself from the accusations. 

"We could have launched more options." he tries to say, adjusting his glasses on his nose, "Besides, you're the one who gave us a potentially deadly piece of candy: it's only fair that I have a say in the matter."

"Way to turn a tables: I raise, how does it feel to be in love with our only sister?" George smiles mischievously as Harry doesn't have time to dodge the last pillow Ron has available as a weapon.


	10. Chapter nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Harry, you have to kiss Ginny." George brings the focus back to their problem, forcing the Chosen One to repeat again that he can't see, he wants to kiss her, but he doesn't know where the hell he's going with those stupid lips of his, "Harry." the twin blocks him by standing up, resting his hands on his shoulders, "Go find my sister and kiss her, I don't want to hear any complaints. Do you understand me? Kiss. Ginny. Weasley." he tells her again and again, out loud, in the holy hope that he'll start thinking it and she'll start feeling it. 

In the corridors of Hogwarts, for the past few days and on and off, the songs of the Weird Sisters can often be heard being sung. More than half of the students, already accustomed to it, walk around humming, chanting to Lee Jordan, lead vocalist of the group " _I sing only if I see Katie_ ". The other half, on the other hand, is fed up to the tips of their hair with watching those poor little Gryffindor antics in a desperate attempt to win over... Or more accurately, annoy Bell.

Katie, who has been avoiding clichés in every possible way, doesn't know which way to turn: at first she just laughed at Lee's outbursts, then she smiled, then she started to silently disappear, turning the corner before running into him in the corridor and, finally, just to ensure a few hours of peace, she locked him up in a closet on the fifth floor. The atmosphere, in short, can be cut with a knife: there are those who stand in corners waiting for yet another clash of the two, others who make themselves as far away as possible. Only sometimes it's impossible to predict where and when they'll meet again. 

For example, when Lee rushes into the Common Room, he doesn't think he'll see Katie hurrying down the dormitory stairs because she's late for Quidditch practice. They stop in front of each other, while the students present are silent and turn to look at them. Someone in the far corner starts betting on what song Lee decides to sing that time, others on what spell Katie will use to shut him up. 

"Hi, Jordan." she says, casting her gaze over the only way out, which has just closed completely, "Is everything okay today?"

Lee knows it bothers her, that it bothers half the other students, Umbridge, and even the ghosts of Slytherin, but he doesn't do it on purpose. It's not like he's happy to sing songs from the Weird Sisters every time he meets the girl he likes, but he can't go back in time to avoid eating that stupid candy. He smiles, shrugging his shoulders in apology, sure he'd start singing in a few seconds. Katie rolls her eyes, setting the knee pads she has three hands on the table, taking Lee by the collar: she's tried everything, but the only way to shut him up is to keep his lips busy. 

The air in the Common Room has never been more tense, even those who have returned to their studies quickly raise their heads to watch the two kiss. A third year boy quickly removes his glasses, to wipe them off with the corner of his cape, unsure if he is seeing exactly what he thinks he is seeing. A strange feeling grips Lee's heart, and at first he can't comprehend what's going on: has he really made an impression by singing to Katie for days, or has he just driven her to exhaustion? He banishes that doubt by bringing his hands to either side of her face, which lets go of the Gryffindor's collar, to bring her hand down on his chest. They pull away for a moment, then give each other a quick, final kiss, remembering that they are being watched by at least fifty eyes. 

"I... I have practice," she whispers, not taking her palm off his sweater. Angelina, still in the infirmary until dinner can't blame her for being late, but she still has to get to the field. 

"Oh... " Lee quickly lowers his hands, bringing them behind his back, and then starts toward the stairs: he doesn't climb them all, because on the second step he turns back to Katie, "I'll see you, right?" Jordan has yet to metabolize that he's not singing, he's stopped singing songs from the Weird Sisters since Bell's lips touched his a couple of minutes earlier: is it over for real? 

Katie, who has just picked up her knee pads from the table and brought her hand to her lips, flashes a brief smile across her mouth, "Of course I'll see you around, Jordan." as soon as she disappears from the painting and the students in the Common Room go back to watching only Lee, he begins to climb the steps two at a time with a dumbfounded grin on his face. 

⳧

  
After the tireless Quidditch practice is over, Katie is one of the first to disappear from the field, while it's the twins' turn to stay and tidy up: tired and cold, when they arrive in the locker room they take a long hot shower and this is definitely the reason why they arrive later than most for dinner. When they enter the Great Hall, no one cares about them, someone is still talking about the afternoon's lessons, Hermione, Ron, and Harry are engrossed in a thick conversation about Dumbledore's Army, and a few seats over, Katie is sitting right next to...

"Lee doesn't sing." is the first comment that comes out of Fred's mouth, taking his eyes off Granger, who hasn't noticed his gaze in the slightest.

George and his brother look confused at their friend, who is sporting a toothy smile and no, he's not singing any new tunes, "I noticed."

"Why isn't Lee singing?" the tone of Fred is increasingly surprised, almost concerned. 

"Why aren't you singing?" finally asks George to the interested party, sitting down at the dinner table. 

"Or my favorite twins!" exclaims Jordan, resting his arm on Katie's shoulders, who rolls her eyes. 

"They're the only twins you know," she comments matter-of-factly, shaking her head.

"We appreciate the affection, but why aren't you singing?" Fred brings his hands together, then rests his head on them, interested. 

"He stopped singing after I kissed him in the Common Room." Katie smiles, removing the boy's arm from her shoulders, to turn and talk to Angelina, who has just been released from the infirmary. 

"So no more crippling memory instincts from the Weird Sisters?" inquires George, dropping an eye on the food served before him, undecided on what to eat. 

Before they can answer, their attention is caught by the Slytherin table. Not only their attention, of course, but that of the rest of the students present at the dinner. Tiger has climbed onto the table, beginning to dance non-stop. Draco, disgusted, tries to get him off, pulling him by his uniform, but it only ends up causing him to lose his balance, then fall ruinously to the floor. 

Fred raises an eyebrow, aiming his eyes at George, who looks like he's hardly innocent and not at all uninvolved in the events, "What did you do?"

"I might have missed a couple of product," the twin shrugs, as Draco Malfoy angrily stands up and Tiger follows him still dancing. Before exiting the Great Hall, accompanied by a buzz of laughter, the first of the two looks for her in the crowd, and when he sees she's not laughing, his heart has yet another jump. 

"I told you not to do anything." Angelina scolds her boyfriend, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"No one can bewitch my girlfriend's broomstick, drop it on the ground, and think they'll get away with it." George cuts to the chase, smiling sweetly at her, before tossing her a quick kiss with the palm of his hand. She rolls her eyes, but finally lets a smile escape. 

"What did you give them?" Fred asks him under his breath. 

George doesn't answer right away, looking up at Lee, his accomplice and instigator, "Lee, what did you put in those two cupcakes I asked you to make?"

Jordan brings his gaze from one to the other, sure that he would be electrocuted in two moments, "Those candies, isn't that good?"

⳧

  
After dinner, George sits on his bed, taking his head in his hands: he is exhausted. And yet, despite Quidditch practice, Dumbledore's Army, the store, and exams, something always moved: Lee, the center of countless movements, managed in a single day to solve a dilemma and create an even bigger one. The twin impresses on his head not to think about Draco Malfoy and Tiger in the middle of the Hogwarts corridors partying, dancing, not seeing, not talking, confused, but trying to focus on the two human cases in front of him. 

"You have to kiss Ginny." he says calmly, watching the color of Harry's face turn a deep red, "Come on Harry, it's for science."

"I can't see her face," concludes the Chosen One, as soon as he can come to his senses, "How the hell am I going to kiss her if I don't know where I'm going?"

"That's good motivation." Lee laughs: ever since he stopped singing in every corner of the castle, he's been forced to join the little secret club George has set up behind Fred's back. 

"Then you have to kiss Lavender." George fixes his gaze on Ron this time, who freezes.

"I can't go around kissing every living thing in this school, they're all Lavender," he blurts, blushing on his face. 

"That's good motivation too." Lee sits between Ron and Harry, resting his hands on their shoulders in a fatherly manner. Then he looks at his twin, who glares at him. He knows deep down inside that it's his fault too, that he should have at least specified that those candies were never to be touched by anyone again. 

"Jordan." he hisses, while the other sneers guiltily and takes his hands off the shoulders of the two unfortunates, who are increasingly depressed. The truth is, George is already thinking about something else: talking to Harry, he imagines, is like talking to Ginny. Ron is the one who worries him, because trying to untangle his problem is more complicated. He scratches his head as Neville enters the room and watches the twin and Lee's figures with some concern. 

"A word about them being here and... " The youngest of the Weasleys is quick to specify, but Longbottom throws his hands up in the air, even before he hears the end of the sentence. Meddling in Harry Potter's affairs, he realized after the first year, is never a smart thing to do. In a series of quick movements, he first puts a hand over his eyes, then pretends to close his mouth and plugs his ears last, proceeding to the bathroom. 

"Harry, you have to kiss Ginny." George brings the focus back to their problem, forcing the Chosen One to repeat again that he can't see, he wants to kiss her, but he doesn't know where the hell he's going with those stupid lips of his, "Harry." the twin blocks him by standing up, resting his hands on his shoulders, "Go find my sister and kiss her, I don't want to hear any complaints. Do you understand me? Kiss. Ginny. Weasley." he tells her again and again, out loud, in the holy hope that he'll start thinking it and she'll start feeling it. 


	11. Chapter ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Any other things I should know about?" Fred lets out a laugh, leaning back in the chair left empty by Harry. 
> 
> "Percy got the potion process wrong on page ninety-nine, there's a high chance it could blow up in your face."
> 
> "It blew up in my face." Hermione looks at him, letting an amused laugh escape, picturing Fred with his face all smeared with green liquid, "That wasn't that funny." she however doesn't stop and covers her mouth with a hand, to avoid making less noise, "Maybe it was a little bit funny." the boy finally admits, rolling his eyes.

Hermione, after finishing breakfast and returning to her room, moved the sweater she had laid on her desk the afternoon of a few days earlier: she immediately noticed that Fred's book had been hidden under there the entire time since the two of them had flown over the lake together. Once they had said goodbye in front of the Fat Lady's painting, the twin went back to collect the broom and she quickly went up to the Common Room, trying to calm her heart, then ending up emptying her shoulder bag, forgetting about the twin's _Potions_ book, now hidden among her own. 

Hermione, upon seeing it, blushes: not so much for the volume she holds in her hands, but for the memory of the boy's body so close to hers. 

She opens the Potions book, looking at her twin's handwriting, mixed with Percy's from a few years earlier. He notices the stark difference, for Fred's is less neat, more discombobulated, creative. She scrolls through the pages, trying to read everything he's written: from the most basic notes, to some more stuffed notes. So yes, now Hermione has proof, he's paying attention in class and taking notes to reproduce potions as best he can, to try them out for use in some new article from the _Weasleys_ ' Wizard Wheezes. 

Feeling guilty of invading someone else's privacy, because it's always a book, she closes it abruptly, deciding to go to Fred, to give it back to him. He holds it between his fingers with care, as if he were holding someone's hand, while on tiptoe he searches for it in the Common Room and scans every corner even in the corridors of the castle, impatient to meet him. 

After the last flight, after calling him by name, they didn't have that much time to spend together: in the last days of the school week they saw each other in the hallways, between classes, they cast glances at each other, maybe smiles, but she never had the time to stop him and really talk to him. There was no more time to be Fred and Hermione and that's something, the girl notes, that she really misses. Excitement grips her heart when someone calls out behind her, but she stops herself noticing that no red heads pop up in her line of sight: too simple, too beautiful. 

"Granger, how strange to see you out and about in the daytime: don't you always sit on your books?" attacks Draco, hiding his hands inside his trouser pockets. The Slytherin has been wandering the halls all day for no apparent reason, but as soon as he sees her something inside him lights up. He raises an eyebrow the moment his gaze falls on the ruined volume she has in her hands, undecided or not whether or not to comment on that as well, but Hermione's reply comes before any new jibes. 

"Very funny indeed, Malfoy," she cuts in, resuming her walk. The halls aren't as full that Saturday as they are on weekdays, she's sure a few students are still eating breakfast, a few more are still sleeping: that's why it's not strange that there's hardly anyone around.

"Wait for me, where are you going?" Draco flanks her, intent on not letting her get away for any reason: now that he's found her on his own, without those tiresome Harry and Ron in the way, he can't back down. 

"Excuse me?" Hermione freezes in the middle of the hallway, confused. 

"I asked where you were going." In spite of their enmity, the Gryffindor is starting to worry: it's not like Malfoy to follow her around, to talk like friends, to be so close they can touch each other. That, two boys talking quietly, can't be them. Not the most famous Slytherin in the school and the Mudblood she hates so much. That's why Hermione finally abandons her protective armor, trying to figure out what's going on.  
"Are you okay, Malfoy?" the girl tilts her face a few degrees, reaching out with her free hand to feel the temperature of the Slytherin's forehead, which blushes on his cheeks upon contact. She notices, growing more and more confused. 

Draco takes her hand, using it to pull the girl's body closer to his, "It's okay, as long as you stay around with your saccharine Gryffindor face." he whispers, with a simple smile. He doesn't know what the hell is wrong with him, inside he's cursing himself, but he can't let go, despite the book Granger is holding slamming into his abdomen. And it hurts, but it would hurt more to lose contact with her. 

Hermione looks up at him, then lowering her gaze to the arm encircling her side, "Draco... " she opens her mouth to speak, but is stopped by a voice down the hall. 

"Hermione! I found you, finally." the arrival of Harry quickly interrupts their embrace. Hermione slips out of Malfoy's arms as quickly as she ended up there just moments before, while a grimace of sadness and annoyance appears on Draco's face. 

"Potter, it's so good to see you," he begins, wryly. 

"A treat for me as well, you have to believe me and I'd be arguing with you for hours if I didn't have things to clear up with Hermione, were the rounds of Snape's potion six or eight? I never remember." feigned Harry, heading back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, taking his friend with him as well, who cast one last confused look at Draco before turning the corner. 

"Harry, what the hell is going on?" It's the only comment her mind can come up with as she clutches Fred's book to her chest. Right now, it's the only thing keeping her grounded in reality. At the Chosen One's silence, Hermione decides to stop looking over his shoulder and flanks him, "Harry James Potter, what Merlin is going on?"

Her frowning tone startles him and, as a defensive maneuver, he smiles shyly at her, "I really did forget the number of turns in the potion, I wouldn't want to get it wrong again." he tries to be convincing, though George - who is following them under the invisibility cloak - is sure it's poor acting. But beyond Harry's few skills, what struck him most was Draco Malfoy's demeanor: since when do Slytherins fall for Gryffindors? 

Worried about the effects of the candy, he followed him around all morning, believing he'd catch him flirting with Parkinson in less than two hours, but Draco didn't stop for a moment to wander around the castle, looking for something - or someone - specific. Caught up in a mad desire to see Hermione, when he caught her all alone in the hallway he couldn't contain his happiness. He hasn't been able to get the Half-Blood out of his head since the night before: it's a continuous thought, more insistent than usual. Not surprisingly, he's convinced that if Harry hadn't arrived, he probably would have stolen Granger's lips without remorse: it's just a kiss, it's just Hermione. 

Ever since the third year her fist had smashed into his face, the desire for a rematch has been pulsing through his head like blood through his veins: it keeps him active. At first he found comfort in a few insults, a few little jokes, but for the past few nights he has done nothing but desire her, feel her under his hands, mold her to his liking. He shook his head, stopping to stare at the spot where Hermione disappeared, then resumed walking, catching a glimpse of Parkinson with his eyesight, coming in his exact direction. 

"Draco, are you busy?" she asks him, smiling mischievously. 

"Always free for you."

  
⳧

  
Sitting in the Common Room for the last half hour, Hermione had already forgotten she had met Draco Malfoy in the corridors of the castle, just as she had forgotten she was holding Fred's book tightly in her hands. She forced her head to focus on Harry's problem, as funny and pointless as it was, especially for being ten o'clock on a Saturday morning. 

"Are you sure you got it right this time?" she asked thoughtfully, barely smiling at him. 

"Hermione, do you happen to have my Potions book?" Fred appears out of nowhere - literally out of nowhere -, interrupting Harry's curt response: he could have thought of any other excuse, rather than put up with yet another know-it-all explanation from Hermione Granger.

"I was forgetting!" she exclaims, opening the window for the Chosen One to escape, "I came looking for you, but they intercepted me before they found you." she tells him, handing him the book, "I would advise you not to use the potion on page forty-six, it's highly illegal."

"Did you read it?" Fred raises an eyebrow, amused: it's obvious that the brightest witch of her age wouldn't pass up the opportunity to take a peek at the seventh-year program. 

"It opened itself." Hermione tries to defend herself, blushing slightly on her cheeks: she notices how easy it is for the twin to embarrass her, one word is enough to send her over the edge. Her heart, even just looking at him, starts pumping faster and she's already happier, more goofy about everything she does. 

"On page forty-six?"

"And one hundred and sixty-nine, highly illegal that one too," she takes advantage, it's done by now anyway. 

"Any other things I should know about?" Fred lets out a laugh, leaning back in the chair left empty by Harry. 

"Percy got the potion process wrong on page ninety-nine, there's a high chance it could blow up in your face."

"It blew up in my face." Hermione looks at him, letting an amused laugh escape, picturing Fred with his face all smeared with green liquid, "That wasn't that funny." she however doesn't stop and covers her mouth with a hand, to avoid making less noise, "Maybe it was a little bit funny." the boy finally admits, rolling his eyes. 

"You have nice handwriting." concludes Hermione, as soon as she's able to recover and realizes he's looking at her with a sweet smile. She smiles back at him, running a strand of hair behind her right ear. 

"To what do I owe this manner of kindness, Hermione?" he asks her a few seconds later, testing an almost entirely new path. 

"I'm always nice to you." she comments indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Fred's mind quickly races back to the week before, to when Hermione spent the entire evening chasing him around the Common Room with wand in hand, to retrieve a Skiving Snackboxes, to breakfast the next morning, when she didn't dignify him with a single glance, concluding with the sharp jibe of the afternoon.

"Almost, almost always nice to you." she corrects herself, sure that Fred has opened his mouth only to contradict her. In fact, he nods in satisfaction soon after.

"Will you kindly accept my proposal of a walk along the cloisters or will you just as kindly decline?" he asks her at that point, casting his gaze into her eyes, which light up for a split second. Hermione thought about carrying on with her Transfiguration study that morning, but her twin's proposal comes like a breath of fresh air. 

"I'm free." the time to answer him, she's already on her feet. Fred, with a quick spell, makes the book in her hands disappear and gets her out of the Common Room first. 

"I didn't see you this morning at breakfast."

"I woke up early." Hermione tries hard not to look at him too much, but realizes she's turned to him again, "I know it's Saturday morning, but I wasn't sleepy."

Fred's gaze is also fixed on her, but he has no intention of censoring himself, "You should get more sleep, sooner or later you might go crazy."

Hermione knows this to be true: taking classes, getting ahead on homework, organizing tutorials in the Room of Requirement, and being Prefect is stressful. Stressful is staying up late grading Ron's papers or listening to Harry's fears, but she's used to it. And, tired as she is, she probably would have liked to sleep a few more minutes, if she hadn't woken up with the intense memory of a summer afternoon in the company of Fred Weasley. Too distracted to get any sleep she went downstairs to breakfast in a practically desolate Great Hall. 

"See you're going crazy?" the twin brought her back down to earth, "You don't even listen to me anymore."

Stepping out of the hallway and into the cloisters, the cold air scratches Hermione's face as she clutches her arms to her chest, "I'm only listening to you if is worth, I already told you that."

Fred rolls his eyes, then shakes his head, "What are you thinking about?" he asks her suddenly, as she leans against a cloister pillar and Fred sits on the cold stone.

"I'm worried about Harry, I see him getting more and more lost in his own world," she confesses, casting her gaze to the small lawn beside them, "Ron doesn't like to talk too much about what's going on with him, so he keeps it all inside and I'm behind in my studies, at this rate, I'm sure I'll go crazy with exams." 

Fred remains silent looking at her, knowing full well that he's not done talking yet. 

"And this column is cold, the whole cloister is cold, why did I agree to come for a walk?" she concludes in fact. 

The twin gets up, approaching her, "Hermione Granger." he tells her in a solemn tone, already managing to make her laugh, "Witch of a thousand merits, are you aware that Harry and Ron without you would have died six times by now and that they will be coming to talk to you about their problems soon?"

She nods shyly. 

"And are you aware that you know twice as many spells as a fifth year girl? You can thank me later for the ones I suggested you learn this summer."

She nods again, rolling her eyes. 

"Then I guess you can stop thinking for a few minutes." the twin smiles sweetly at her, sure he's been flawless, but soon notices Hermione shaking her head. 

"I'm still cold." Fred hides his hand inside the pocket of his sweater, pulling out his bonnet, the one sewn by Molly Weasley herself, and in one quick motion, puts it on Granger.

"I know, there's no limit to my perfection and, again to prevent you from thinking too much, I'm more than sure you agreed because the walk was with me."

"You, what are you thinking?" she merely asks then, adjusting the headset on her head as best she can. He watches her for a few seconds: he's thinking that he's been wanting to see her all morning, all morning he wants to hear her laugh, that talking to her is all his morning and all his day, that she's beautiful. At this point he would like to answer her, but when he opens his mouth the words Hermione hears are not the words he speaks. 

"Fred, light of my life, I was wondering where you'd gone," George comments mischievously, dropping his gaze first to him and then to the witch, "I should have looked directly for the prefect-perfect, it would have taken me less time to find you. Would you mind coming with me?"

George thus interrupted their walk. He has been returning the invisibility cloak to Harry for a few minutes now with a smile, reminding him of that little problem he had with Ginny, and then goes downstairs to find the twin. 

Hermione shakes her head, "I'm going to go study." she just says, casting a stern look at both of them, "Don't do anything illegal, I'd hear about it." she hands the cap back to Fred, who is glaring at his brother while the latter is smiling innocently. 

"We won't break a single rule, I promise."  



	12. Chapter eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're right, I should have mentioned it, but you have to put yourself in my shoes: you're part of this." George scratches his head, "You took the candy and every time Hermione appears, no one else exists for you anymore."
> 
> Fred still doesn't understand, stubborn as he is and looks at his twin with a confused expression etched on his face. 
> 
> "Did you realize that?" asks George at this point, "Because I wanted you to realize it yourself, not tell you."
> 
> "That I like her?" the look in Fred's eyes is innocent, one of the purest things the other has ever seen in his life, "I never thought there could be anyone I liked as much as her, I realized that." he smiles at last, infecting George as well. 

Ginny sinks her face into her pillow, trying to hide the heavy blush on her face. A few hours earlier Harry's voice came back into her mind, more desperate than ever. He didn't want to give it any weight at first, with the Transfiguration task to finish for the next day, but at some point it had stopped, motionless. 

Harry Potter is in a total panic, no songs to take the pressure off: he _has_ to kiss her, he _wants_ to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss her for some time, it's true, but George's new pressure forced him to speed up. Kiss her now for example, if only he could find her. But even if he could find her, how could he see her lips? Bloody hell, it's all complicated when the Weasleys are involved. Why did George fixate on the fact that he has to kiss Ginny? He told him that he can't, that he wants to, he wants to take her lips more than anything in the world, but if a cloud of fog blocks his romantic intentions there's nothing he can do about it. The Chosen One's voice screams in Ginny's mind, and she suddenly understands. 

She gets up, runs out of the dorms, and as she's searching the castle for Harry, she intercepts the twins in the middle of the third floor corridor, after greeting Hermione, who seems to have just returned to the Common Room.

"You knew I'd hear that!" she points, looking at George with an amused frown, "You want me to make the first move."

Fred looks at them confused, while his brother laughs heartily, "Oh Ginny, see how you're my favorite? You always get everything right on the spot."

"But why would I kiss him?" the girl asks, adjusting her uniform skirt and blushing just slightly on her cheeks. 

"You wanted to stop hearing Harry in your mind? Here's a solution: when Katie kissed Lee, he stopped singing at the top of his lungs in front of everyone."

"An explanation?" interrupts Fred, scratching his head, confused. 

"So I just have to kiss him?" Ginny ignores him, as her mind already races to florid horizons. 

"Just kiss him, if it works."

"But am I transparent?" the forgotten twin wonders, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"We see you perfectly, Fred, don't be silly," Ginny tells him, finally looking up at him, but as much as she's looking at him, her thoughts are still focused on the Chosen One. She is reciprocated. Like her, she now understands without fail, Harry wants to see her too, wants to spend time together, wants to laugh, to joke around. Her heart leaps in her chest and she's sure the voice in her mind is intensifying. 

"Having ascertained that, an explanation?"

"I'd love to give it to you, but I seem to be on a date with Harry, and I swear to you, he's getting impatient," the girl cuts in, disappearing with a wave of her hand towards the Gryffindor Common Room, hoping to find him.

As soon as he disappears around the corner, Fred raises an eyebrow at his twin, who laughs in delight, patting him on the back, "I swear I didn't do anything." he lies quietly, but the other's gaze urges him to confess, "I may have had a little _innocent_ conversation with Harry, it's not a crime."

"Do you want to see if it works with her too?" asks Fred, resuming his walk down the hallway, in the opposite direction to the one Ginny took. 

"It worked with Lee, maybe it just needs a simple kiss." George shrugs, then looking at his twin who grins like a dumbass, "Is Hermione thinking about you again?" he asks mischievously, shaking his head, "Why don't you tell her?"

Fred gets his feet back on the ground, turning around abruptly, "Tell who what?"

"To Hermione, can't you just tell her? What do you feel when she thinks of you..."

"She'd cut me in two for keeping it from her," Fred says hastily, "And then she'd chop up what's left, just to make sure she got me off the ground."

George continues to watch him for a few seconds as the other shoves his hands into his pockets. He's been watching Fred walk around Hermione all summer and just can't conceive why the subject, between the two of them, has never come up: that Fred hasn't figured it out yet? That he's not really in love? That he's afraid? It is likely that he is scared, he has never known them, never experienced those feelings: maybe, he thinks, he liked Angelina, but what he feels for Hermione seems to be more intense, deeper. And even she, in George's opinion, doesn't count him right: when he joined the two of them at Grimmauld Place, his eye often fell on the young woman's face, which, flushed, hid a simple smile. Even though she was replying to Viktor's last letter, as she dipped her pen into the ink, she stared at Fred only for a handful of milliseconds to avoid detection. 

So she studied his face, so she found out about his mole at the base of her neck, so - George likes to think - she fell in love with it too. The point is, he's not sure, he hasn't had it confirmed, and he doesn't know what the hell the candy did to Hermione. He runs a hand through his hair, reaching for his twin who has already entered their secret warehouse - _Granger would end up driving them both crazy._

With a wave of his wand he lights the fire under the cauldron, his back to Fred, who leans against the pillar and crosses his arms to his chest, "So?" 

"So what?" crouching on the ground, George turns to look at him. 

"Are you going to fill me in on what you found out?" Fred raises his eyebrow again, sitting down beside him. He's noticed his brother's strange movements over the last few days, the strange looks he's given Harry and Ron, the fact that he always disappeared quickly, without even Angelina knowing anything about it. 

"Can't hide anything from you." George smiled, defeated. He hoped to gather as much information as possible before confronting his twin again, confronting him with the concrete fact that that candy doesn't really do anything except make you even more desperately in love. 

"I felt neglected."

"You're right, I should have mentioned it, but you have to put yourself in my shoes: you're part of this." George scratches his head, "You took the candy and every time Hermione appears, no one else exists for you anymore."

Fred still doesn't understand, stubborn as he is and looks at his twin with a confused expression etched on his face. 

"Did you realize that?" asks George at this point, "Because I wanted you to realize it yourself, not tell you."

"That I like her?" the look in Fred's eyes is innocent, one of the purest things the other has ever seen in his life, "I never thought there could be anyone I liked as much as her, I realized that." he smiles at last, infecting George as well. 

"Harry likes Ginny," the more informed one finally lets slip, "Let's just say I killed two birds with one stone."

"So Ron really has fallen for Lavender Brown?"

"Confirmed." George goes back to checking the flame under the cauldron, quickly removing his sweater due to the heat the fire is giving off. 

"Do you know anything about Hermione?" Fred gets up from his seat, taking a piece of parchment in his hand, checking to make sure he has all the ingredients for the potion. He pretends to read it more than anything else, careful to listen to his twin's response. 

"Nothingness, she's really good at keeping a secret, unless she doesn't feel anything for anyone."

"Viktor's not here," Fred says confidently, lowering the paper to the floor, "She might... " 

"Don't wrap your head around anything." George looks up at him, placing a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner, "I don't see her going for a walk with Krum lately."

Fred opens his mouth to contradict him, to tell him that they've been texting all summer, that they certainly took a walk at some point the year before, that it could be, but he realizes there would be no point in wasting time on something he can't and won't prove. A quickened pulse reminds him that Hermione is thinking of him, once again, and he smiles: it's okay, even just that would always be okay. 

⳧

  
Despite her expectations Hermione, once she reached the Common Room, didn't go up to her room to get her books: she sat back down in the armchair, looking at the cosmic void before her. She reached out her hands toward the fireplace fire, turning her face to look at a group of laughing third-year girls, then returned to stare at the intense flame. Hot, red, playful, even that is able to remind her of Fred. She closes her eyes, suddenly wondering where Harry and Ron got off to that morning. Worried for both of them, about Harry for his visions, about Ron for his ambiguous behavior, she no longer knows how to talk to her two best friends. The portrait in the Common Room opens, forcing Hermione to shift her attention to Ginny, whom she's sure she said hello to a couple of minutes earlier. 

"Can I ask you something?" she stops her friend, who enters the room like a fury: her face is flushed, matching her hair color perfectly, both from running and from Harry Potter's indecent thoughts.

"Short on time, talk fast." cuts the latter short, sitting back in the chair to catch her breath. 

"I have a feeling a lot of things are about to happen," Hermione begins, "And I also think a lot of people know about it," she concludes, raising an eyebrow in Ginny's direction, who lets go of a sigh. No, it's not normal for Draco Malfoy to be talking to her, for Harry to be so stupid as to need the same explanation twice, and finally, _for Fred to stay beautiful even early in the morning_. She freezes, sure she's already noticed the last one a few weeks before. 

"Can't hide anything from you," the little Weasley then laughs, watching her friend's face, which is on the verge of a fit. 

"Draco Malfoy hugged me in the middle of the hallway earlier, it's not hard to see that the world is turning upside down."

"I would have asked myself a question or two at that point, too." Ginny smiles at her, regaining her inner calm and silencing Harry's voice with a wave of her wand, "I'm all yours, the rest can wait. Come to my room." the two of them go up to the dormitory, just as Harry enters the Common Room in despair: he would never find Ginny Weasley, it's hopeless.

"What do you want to know?" 

"That candy, how much do you know about it?" asks Hermione, leaning against Ginny's half-open closet, who prefers to sit on her unmade bed. 

"Harry's head is full of it," Ginny replies quickly, "He keeps saying that taking that candy was crazy, that he really doesn't understand how the twins don't know what they are, but that just as funny is imagining Lee dropping all those potions into the boiling cauldron, not to mention then the spells they cast that night," Hermione stares at her wordlessly, searching within herself for a shred of self-control to avoid going down the halls and committing the murder of the twins. 

"Anyway then he fixated on the fact that the candy is red, like the color of well... _my hair_ ," Ginny continues embarrassed, "So I guess that's why mine was the same color as Harry's eyes, right?" 

Hermione thinks about it for a moment: she tries to remember her candy, finding herself guilty. She recognizes that color and knows full well who the person is that reminds her of it so precisely. An unfamiliar fire ignites in her body, while a myriad of butterflies fly in her stomach. 

"Anyway, George took Harry and Ron aside and decided to find a solution: when Katie kissed Lee in the Common Room, the effects of the candy disappeared. That's why I was looking for Harry." Ginny soon notices that Hermione is pacing back and forth across the room. She raises an eyebrow, watching her curiously.

"Candy that changes color depending on who's looking at it, which creates confusion and annoying symptoms, which disappear with a simple kiss?" the older one sums up, suddenly stopping walking, to cast her hazel eyes into Ginny's, who merely nods, only to see her friend reach for a piece of parchment and a feather to write a couple of lines.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm taking notes," Hermione replies methodically, barely smiling, "For Harry, I think it's great that he likes you and you like him." she remembers to tell her as well, having never stopped rooting for her since second year. She wants to reach out to Harry too, tell him it's great that he was finally able to open his eyes, that Cho Chang wasn't the right witch for him. She watches Ginny for a few seconds, who has probably already resumed traveling with her mind. Then she moves, reaching for the door handle. 

"Where are you going?" asks the little Weasley girl, thanking her with a sweet expression on her face. Hermione is starting to fidget, she has noticed: why is she only anxious now? 

"In the Library, of course," the curly-haired woman explained, "Would you do me the favor of not kissing Harry for a few more hours? I'd like to look for something."

"But... " Ginny tries to argue, eventually convincing herself to stay in the room. At least in that place the Chosen One wouldn't find her: the stairs to the girls' dormitory are enchanted for a reason.


	13. Chapter twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't come up with a rational explanation for that thought, because the twin is a friend, as Ron is a friend, as Harry is a friend. Fred is supposed to be a big brother, protecting her, making her laugh and keeping her company. She always forced it on herself, eventually, that she would never, ever love one of the Weasleys: falling in love with Ron is out of the question, but the thought of having taken a shine to one of her countless brothers is worse. If there's a basis for a stable, lasting relationship with Percy, everyone else is fireworks, unpredictable: Fred, the most uncontrolled of them all - she imagines, since she hasn't gotten to know Charlie as well as she could - would be a challenge. Yet, she wonders, it could also become calm, everyday, and family. 

In a dark corner of the Library, in that hidden place she discovered the year before with Viktor, Hermione Granger is putting her hands in her hair, letting out loud sighs, not caring that she's being annoying. Madame Pince doesn't say anything, but lets one of her favorite pupils vent and pretends not to, focusing on the myriad of books she has to sort through. 

The young girl doesn't know how to proceed: she can't accept that a kiss on the lips is the only way to get rid of the effects of the candy. Yet, after three intense hours of research in the Library, she is on the verge of defeat: she can't concentrate like she used to. She wonders if Ginny is still in her room waiting for her: probably, if she had kissed Harry, she wouldn't have had any problems by now. 

She sighs again, leaning her head against the book she has open on her desk. The idea of having to kiss someone doesn't bother her, it's just two mouths meeting: the point, _the problem_ , is having to kiss _him_. Hermione's mind has been anchored in her head, as much as possible focused on her research, but now that the excitement and eagerness is gone, Fred is everywhere again. Everything she sees and thinks about is tinged with red, an unmistakable red. She scratches her nose, disconsolate. She doesn't know if she has fallen in love with him: it could be a simple skid, a wrong course, a silly misunderstanding. Does she like Fred Weasley? Her heart skips a beat and she's sure her face is flushed. _Misery_. 

She passes a strand of hair behind her ear, getting up from the book, trying to give herself some semblance of composure. Maybe the twins' candy can simulate feelings, instill the idea of them. That way, that strange fixation would just be an illusion. That friendship might have transformed upon contact with the candy, simulating love. She smiles, suddenly relieved. 

"I found you." someone whispers in her ear, resting their hands on her shoulders, "I didn't see you at lunch, I just put two and two together." Hermione stiffens, because she knows the voice, she knows perfectly well that Draco Malfoy is so close she can smell his hair. He caresses one of her cheeks with his index finger, moving down to her neck.

"I missed you, I wanted to see your face," he continues, licking his lips. A strange hunger grips his stomach, he needs to feel Hermione's mouth against his, to hear her sigh.

"What are you doing, Draco?" she asks, backing away from him, exactly when Fred disappears from her mind. She stands up, backing away quickly to the bookcase behind him: not a great escape plan, but a solution to the Slytherin's sudden proximity. She can't believe Malfoy would come to her, that he'd be the least bit interested in someone she's been calling dirty blood for years. She presses herself against the surface, feeling the hardcover books sink into her back: she could throw one at him, just in case.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Draco advances, introducing her against the shelves, "Granger you're so know-it-all, you know the world, you understand everything, but you can't read my wish, you surprise me."

Hermione would normally be able to counter this, if Draco was insulting her, if he was spitting deep hatred in her face, she wouldn't let him say it twice: she'd pull out her wand, point it at him without hesitation, or simply raise a fist, she's done it before after all. But Draco isn't insulting her, he's testing her. Every second that passes, it's one less inch that divides them. Hermione swallows loudly, trying to make herself as small as possible against the bookcase. 

"Why now?"

Malfoy takes a strand of her hair in his hands, playing with her unruly curl, "There's something about you, about me. There's something in the air that tells me you need to be mine, now." he whispers to her quietly, "You read it in my eyes, once again you don't need to ask."

"You hate me." she continues undaunted, locking her gaze with Draco's, who suddenly stops his run. 

"Hate you?" a smile prints itself across his face, "I hate you, Granger. Yet every cell in my body is begging to meet you," he tells her, kissing the strand of hair in her hand. 

Hermione admits it: as insufferable as Draco is, he's playing that game well, selling himself better than Viktor ever did. She shakes her head, trying to come back to reality. Her mind begins to connect the dots: that he too has ingested one of the twins' candies? His behavior has been strange for days, ever since he got up from dinner in the Great Hall. On the other hand, a love filter would not be able to transform hatred into desire: the candy seems to be the only explanation. Hermione's heart, in that exact moment, rises: it is an _illusion_ , the product of the twins can create the illusion of love, of passion. 

_Oh, what the hell._

She takes Draco's tie in her hands, drawing him to her face: intrigued by Lee Jordan's solution, she imagines she could eliminate Malfoy's effects in the same way, but a coughing fit interrupts the two, who can't even get their lips to touch. They turn, the Slytherin mostly annoyed, Hermione embarrassed. She's been afraid to meet Madam Pince's stern gaze, McGranitt's angry one, but they're nothing compared to George Weasley's, who has been following the Slytherin from the Great Hall, suspecting her intentions.

"Need anything?" asks Draco, distancing himself a little from the girl, still preventing her from being able to pull away. Her hand leaves his tie, remaining in midair. 

"I need Hermione." 

"We're in the middle of an interesting conversation, I'd hate to interrupt." Draco puts a hand in his pocket, tilting his body in the other boy's direction defiantly. And that's when the Gryffindor suddenly realizes her actions: she was really going to kiss Malfoy. More out of desperation, than true desire. More for scientific purposes than pleasure. 

"I'm coming." she hurries to say, moving her wand to put all the consulted books back on the shelves, grabbing her bag as fast as she can so as not to be interrupted, finally approaching her twin, who is waiting for her at the door. She can't immediately recognize him, so her heart is still hoping that it is George - and not Fred - who has caught her in compromising attitudes with a boy. Why should she care so much anyway? Fred is just a friend, just a friend. 

"I'm not giving up that easily," Draco intimates to her, running a hand through his hair. He's accessed by hate, hate for that girl he detests so much, hate for the desire he feels for her, hate for not being able to steal her lips. He punches the bookcase, shaking his head. He would have his moment in the sun, sooner or later, Hermione would be his. 

⳧

The echoes of Hermione and George's footsteps echo in that deserted hallway, while the other students are lost between the Great Hall, the Common Rooms, and the Library. No one wanders the halls, no one intends to move a muscle unnecessarily. The twin occasionally casts a glance at Hermione, who stares at the ground in embarrassment. Her cheeks, he notes, are slightly flushed and her fingers are twisted around his shoulder strap. As much as he knows her, he still can't understand, study, pinpoint what the candy might have done to her. Would she have come to tell him if she had a problem? 

His mind then races to Fred, from whom he has promised not to hide anything more, but even just the idea of having to explain to him about Draco Malfoy's feelings is excruciating: despite having thought about it for hours, he is still unsure of his possible reaction. Would he finally get his act together? Would he have reasoned with a clear head? George has been aware of Fred's feelings since day one, scrutinizing them from afar, waiting, sure that sooner or later they would both realize they had sown more than friendship in their hearts. For Fred, he's sure, it only took days, maybe weeks, but something had already sprouted. 

" _Dissendium_." came George's voice again, after the two of them had walked the halls in total muteness. Hermione followed without a word, preferring the game of silence to Draco Malfoy's lips. The twins' secret lair quickly appeared before them, which the prefect immediately scrutinized with some disappointment. 

"You swore to me that you didn't have a personal storage room." she regains the courage to speak, crossing her arms over the chest, casting her gaze around the small room, filled to the brim with flasks and strange products. 

"A little lie, both Fred and I agreed it would be best to keep it a secret," George apologizes quickly, making sure the passageway closes behind them, before turning back to Hermione, "Malfoy?" he raises a surprised eyebrow, with the simple intent of embarrassing her. 

He succeeds, clearly, because her face turns a deeper reddish hue, but Hermione isn't completely intimidated and raises, in turn, a question, "Did you give him one of your candies?" 

Despite her embarrassment, Hermione's heart seems to have suddenly calmed down; Fred hasn't seen her in contact with Draco and hopes she never hears about it. She can't come up with a rational explanation for that thought, because the twin is a friend, as Ron is a friend, as Harry is a friend. Fred is supposed to be a big brother, protecting her, making her laugh and keeping her company. She always forced it on herself, eventually, that she would never, ever love one of the Weasleys: falling in love with Ron is out of the question, but the thought of having taken a shine to one of her countless brothers is worse. If there's a basis for a stable, lasting relationship with Percy, everyone else is fireworks, unpredictable: Fred, the most uncontrolled of them all - she imagines, since she hasn't gotten to know Charlie as well as she could - would be a challenge. Yet, she wonders, it could also become calm, everyday, and family. 

"It could be." George leans across the table, "The point is, I don't understand why you, of all people," he says sincerely. He was sure he had found the answer to all his questions, but Malfoy managed to break all his wonderful progress. 

Hermione, returning her focus to the candy, runs a strand of hair behind her ear, "It creates an illusion, based on the strongest bonds one feels but has not yet been able to confess: I'm guessing you haven't felt any effect, considering you and Angelina are together and Fred knows he's your favorite brother. If you have nothing to say, if everything is perfect, illusion is reality. Unlike Draco, who hates me, but has never said it out loud, not looking me in the eye: which the candy gave him the courage to do. I didn't think he hated me more than Harry, actually. As for Ginny, she's been in love with Harry since the first time she saw him come into the house: she wants to be with him so much, that, because of you, she can hear him talking in her mind all day." 

George is impressed for the umpteenth time: Hermione hardly ever misses anything, "Did your research in the Library suggest anything else?" he then asks her, intrigued. In a short time she has reached a part of the truth: it's not illusion, it's just pure love, but the fact that she doesn't realize it is an interesting factor for George, just as interesting is that she doesn't know what Ron or Harry experienced because of the candy. 

"I've been researching how to undo the effects of your candy, assuming you want to call it _candy_ and not 'completely untested inventions that could have killed us'."

"And?" George pretends he didn't really hear her, but he appreciates the veiled irony coming out of the prefect-perfect's mouth: spending time with Fred was good for her. 

"And you interrupted me, I wanted to know if a kiss could destroy Draco's illusion, just as it did Lee's. They're not based on the same feeling, though the effects inevitably lead to insane desire, which is why I was wondering if... "

"I understand three hours in the Library reading books as tall as you, but kissing Draco Malfoy over a simple theory... You're not overreacting, Hermione?"

"Do you have a better idea?" she asks, shaking her head, "I don't want to risk being surrounded by him every hour of the day, it's not nice." 

"Pardon the cliché, but I'm looking at the best witch her age." George smiles at her, resting his left hand on her right shoulder, "I think you're capable of finding another way."

"I thought maybe there might be another way," she says embarrassedly, scratching her cheek: around one o'clock, while Hermione was playing with a strand of hair, the recipe for a potion that, she's sure, no professor has ever mentioned in her five years of studying at Hogwarts came across her eyes. Finished, she meticulously hides the last ingredient in a riddle.

_I am liquid, but I am not water._

_I am sticky, but I am not glue._

_I am created and in turn I create._

Hermione reread it several times to try to solve it, broke a feather, scribbled a scroll, and finally declared her defeat. Her mind, at that hour, screamed only Fred Weasley's name. 

George raised an eyebrow, "What kind of solution?"

"There's a potion I read about a few hours ago: it's supposed to nullify the effects of almost every filter and spell in the Wizarding World ingested in the last month: convenient, _isn't it?_ " she comments, sarcastically.

"Still, you don't seem very euphoric." George raises an eyebrow, bending his head to observe her better. She shuts up, embarrassed. _Oh, what the hell_.

"I can't find the last ingredient." she says with a hint of a voice. 

"How?"

"It's hidden by a riddle." she repeats more firmly, looking up at George, who is shocked, "I couldn't solve it and I'm sure I won't be able to find the solution." Fred's laughter breaks through her mind and she finds herself forced to bite her lip, to keep from screaming.

"Then don't look for it yourself," the twin tells her calmly. Seeing Hermione so insecure is definitely surprising: her, her raising her voice every time, her standing up, pointing her toes, protecting, going out of her way to make sure everything is perfect. 

She looks at him, passing a strand of hair behind her ear, "Right here I wanted you: see that you don't make me say it twice." she admonishes him, swallowing, "Will you help me, George?"

"On one condition." he says quietly, spreading his lips into a huge smile. 

"Which is?" Hermione, who is already reaching into her shoulder strap for the book with the potion recipe, returns to look at her twin with a curious expression on her face. 

"Don't ever try to kiss Draco Malfoy again."


	14. Chapter thirteen

At dinner, Hermione decided to sit next to Harry and Ron, who watched her curiously. They noticed her absence when, facing the _Transfiguration_ task, no hints, no admonitions came from the Gryffindor's favorite chair. They looked at each other worried: it's been days since her friend disappeared and reappeared without being heard - almost like during their third year -, always busy doing something they couldn't understand. They've talked about it together, sure they want to ask her about it too at some point, but they've never found the right opportunity. 

"Where have you been?" asks Ron, resting his fork on the side of his plate. 

It's at that point that Hermione comes out of her dumbness: she realizes that she hardly spoke at all that day, not as much as she would have liked to. Looking at her two friends reminds her that she has unfinished business with them, "In the Library, doing homework." she half lies, sure she doesn't want to reveal her meeting with Draco in the Library or the strange arrangement with her twin , "Did you guys finish them?"

"Barely." Harry smiles at her, "We've missed you, without you we're as slow as sloths."

Hermione replies with a sweet expression on her face. She would like at that point to bombard them with all the questions running through her mind, but before she can open her mouth, Ginny Weasley sits by her side like a fury. Ron looks at her startled, thanking Merlin for not being the fuse to her anger. 

"You're gone, Hermione." the Ginny's voice is resentful: half the Gryffindor table can tell that something must have happened between the two. 

"Keep your voice down." the curly-haired girl doesn't flinch much, despite the fact that her friends are running their eyes from one to the other, "I didn't do it on purpose."

"I waited for you for over three hours," the young woman continues undaunted, furiously biting into her slice of bread, "Now, three hours may not seem like much, but I would have rather spent those... "

Harry is far enough away that he doesn't understand all the words coming from Ginny's lips, and he can't even read them. He casts a glance at Ron, who shrugs disinterestedly: he's figured out at thirteen not to stick his nose in his sister's business, especially if the latter is blinded by anger.

" _Guinevere_." Hermione shushes her, "I know what you would have preferred to do, believe me, but I had a setback." 

Before she can ask for an explanation, Draco Malfoy walks over to their seats, leaning over to meet Granger's gaze, "Hello." he tells her, smiling mischievously, "I was wondering if you had time to finish that interesting conversation this afternoon."

Harry runs a hand over his face, Ron's jaw opens so wide, Neville thinks it's broken forever, Fred and George turn in unison to the newcomer. The former feels a strange fire in his stomach, a feeling not at all pleasant, tremendously uncomfortable. _What conversation?_ Why were they alone? He clenches his fists under the table, trying to pull himself together. George looks first at the Slytherin, then his gaze runs to Fred: his twin's jaw has contracted slightly, but he doesn't move an inch.

"He was your setback?" Ginny raises an eyebrow, frowning, "You left me in a room for hours, to spend time with Malfoy?" 

Hermione breaks her gaze with the Slytherin, to focus on her friend, "What? No, I spent all afternoon in books looking for a solution!" she whispers to her, trying to be inconspicuous. 

"But you already know the solution!" Ginny blurts out, heedless of the visible embarrassment she causes the curly-haired woman: it's only when she finishes speaking that she realizes the attention everyone is giving her. She then watches Hermione's startled look, her sudden blush, noting that no response will come from the other, because she doesn't know what to say, "You're such a mess."

It takes her very little time to connect the last few dots: she's been following Fred and Hermione's movements already at Grimmauld Place, she's scrutinized the two of them drifting a little apart within the walls of Hogwarts, but it certainly hasn't escaped her notice that her twin sometimes accompanies her on patrol and that the two of them, a couple of days before, flew over the lake together. And seeing Hermione slowly become aware of those feelings now is perhaps a privilege, because no one seems to have noticed yet. 

Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched first Ginny hugging her friend and stroking her back and then Harry and Ron shrugging disconsolately. _Women_. The two of them, once Malfoy has departed, quickly eat their dinner, ceasing to mind the stares of the others sitting with them - especially Ron - and quickly get up from the table, making their way to the younger one's room once more.

"What are you keeping from me?" Ginny is now just dying to know her friend's side of the story, to understand why she couldn't enjoy Harry Potter's soft lips. 

"Malfoy got one of those candies," Hermione begins, clutching her legs to her chest, hiding her face in her knees, "At first I couldn't understand why he was attracted to me, then I started putting two and two together. Whatever twins have managed to create, it is based on feelings, the strongest ones, creating illusions of love. So Draco, who hates me with every cell in his body, now wants me more than anything else in this school."

Ginny remains silent, urging her to continue. 

"This afternoon, while I was in my books, he came into the Library and I told myself I should try to kiss him, to make sure he stopped, but George interrupted us. I don't know how he figured it out, that Draco was coming to me, but he came to stop me."

"And?" Ginny imprints on her mind the suspicious movements of her brother who, she knows, knows a lot more than he wants to show. He's helped her and Harry, hit on Ron, and now even appears in Hermione's story. She lets her friend continue, but mentally notes that she needs to have a talk with her twin at some point. 

"There is a solution, I say other than just kissing," Hermione's cheeks turn a soft red as she says this, "George has agreed to help me find the last ingredient for the potion that could undo all effects."

She finishes her tale, looking up at her friend, who still hasn't expressed a thought since the beginning of that chat, "You really don't have anything to say?" she asks, biting her lower lip. 

Ginny stands up, twisting the sleeves of the shirt she's wearing up to her elbows, "Nothing happened to George, Harry and I are clearly a lost case between sight and mind, Ron, for all he understood, couldn't move a step outside his room, which every corner filled with Lavender, Lee thought he was in a musical for days on end. And everyone, everyone got that candy." she says, licking her lips, "Including you." she touches the other's nose with a finger, then crosses her arms over her chest. 

Hermione's heart stops, she's reached the end of the line. She would have to get it out eventually, after all. She's only noticed that something has changed lately, even though everyone thinks she's a brilliant witch. She didn't know how to read the signals, perhaps because reading was impossible for her. Or rather, reading is impossible for her, while she is thinking about Fred. The problem is that she thinks about Fred too often. Fred smiling at her, Fred laughing at her joke, Fred telling her that the line she's writing is wrong, Fred reading her "History of Magic", Fred taking her on his broomstick for a ride on the lake. Fred. 

She still hasn't figured out what it is, doesn't know what kind of feeling that stupid candy is attached to: does she like it? Or is it just friendship? The point is, she can't kiss him, not until she knows. 

"Say something, Hermione," Ginny implores her, sitting down beside her to urge her to bring up something she's been trying to bury for far too long, "Surely you wouldn't have set out to find such a complicated solution if you weren't keeping a secret."

"Something is there... " Hermione looks up and meets the other's soft eyes, "I can't kiss him out of nowhere, he'd know it's because of this candy, but even worse he might get some strange ideas and I don't know if I'm ready for strange ideas, because I don't even know if I like him. Maybe I like him is true, maybe I just think he's just a friend. What if then I kiss him and he tells me he's desperately in love with someone else?" she stands up, beginning to gesticulate endlessly as her face turns a deep red, "I need the other solution."

"All to avoid having a clear conversation with Fred?" Ginny raises an eyebrow, rather amused by the situation. 

"How did you... ?" 

"It wasn't hard, Hermione. I know for sure you don't like Ron, or Harry. You wouldn't have given yourself over to George so easily if you had feelings for him, so Fred is the only other one who knows about candy."

"There's also Lee." 

The look Ginny gives her friend is unmistakable, blatant that she's telling her to stop saying things that are neither in heaven nor on earth, "I caught you two flying over the lake, and if I'm not mistaken, he's the one who accompanied you on your patrol a few weeks ago."

"How do you know he was on the patrol with me?"

"I saw him sneak out of the Common Room, but George had already left with Angelina a few minutes before, I just completed the puzzle after seeing you at the lake."

Hermione sits heartbrokenly next to her friend: if she noticed, who else might have gotten strange ideas? Because all that's true is good time spent with a friend, nothing more and nothing less. She's never felt so discombobulated about Viktor, or even just Harry or Ron. The one with Fred is a new, special relationship. 

"I'm sorry I left you waiting for hours in your room, I put my needs ahead of yours: I took advantage of the fact that you were able to hear Harry's thoughts to get me out of an uncomfortable situation, keeping you from being happy."

Ginny shakes her head, "It's normal to go crazy when you're in love, I don't blame you."

"I'm not in love." Hermione pokes her head in as her face turns even redder, "Maybe I like it a little bit, but it might as well be the candy that makes me feel that way." she whispers then, dejectedly. 

"Are you really going to go through with the potion?"

"Your brother is constantly surrounded by other girls, he's become the only bachelor since Angelina got engaged to George: every time he walks through the halls it seems like they're eating him up with their eyes, I'm not going to get into the fight and more importantly, I don't want to ruin our friendship."

Ginny huffs, giving her a small slap on the forehead, "Then worry about finding the missing ingredient."

⳧

After dinner, the twins and Lee go up to their room, wanting to avoid the hustle and bustle of the Common Room for an evening that they're not in the mood to try and sell Skiving Snackboxes to some Gryffindor eager to skip class. Fred closes his eyes, leaning his head against the headboard, "I knew giving Draco the candy would be a bad, bad idea," he says, covering his face with two hands. The memory of Malfoy's face next to Hermione's makes his blood boil. It can't be true, there's no way he could have fallen in love with her too. They detest each other, theirs is hatred, not love.

"My bad." apologizes George, turning the page of the book he's reading carefully, "I'm sorry."

"Nothing was ever going to happen, but no, George Weasley and Lee Jordan always need to have their own way." Fred doesn't give up, but continues to complain loudly, all the while trying to erase Draco from his mind. Lee passes his gaze from one to the other, moving away a little, pretending he needs to look for something under his pillow. 

George on the other hand raises an eyebrow in his twin's direction, surprised, "I said I was sorry."

Fred seems not to hear him again, "They're going to have to kiss, Draco Malfoy is going to kiss Hermione and it's all your fault."

Lee, who is getting more and more immersed in his bed, is starting to ask himself some questions: he's slowly starting to understand what's going on, he's starting to realize why Fred has been touching the sky with one hand for the past few weeks, why he acts like a boiled fish every time Hermione's name enters the conversation. 

"If you're done complaining, I'd move on to tell you about Granger's latest idea," George cuts short, approaching his twin's bed and placing the book in his hands, "She asked me for help finding the missing ingredient in this potion she found in the Library and it's highly likely that with just a sip, the effects of the candy can disappear completely."

"No Draco kisses Hermione?" Fred's spirits seemed to lighten. The idea of the Slytherin even touching her is unbearable: he's in love with Granger, misery if he is, yet he always feels like he has to stop. When he's with her it's as if everything is different, more defined, right. It's a feeling that fills him with happiness, but it also frightens him: he knows that Hermione is the witch who can stand up to him, she's the witch he would like to see in his bed before going to sleep for the rest of his life. Hermione is the one made for him, but the thought of getting there so early scares him. Fred has never been in a serious relationship, he doesn't know how it works: he's certainly capable of making others happy, but what if that's all she wants? Or again, what if she doesn't want that at all? 

He has watched her over the summer, his face lost in Viktor's letters, and has wondered, for as long as he can remember, if her heart wasn't already occupied by the Bulgarian, but before he can lose his mind, it is his own heart that begins to palpitate: he is in her thoughts again. Whenever it happens, that her mind gets lost in Fred, there is always a good reason. At the lake, it was the memory of a previous encounter that caused Hermione's thoughts to turn towards him, while a few days later the book was the cause of the boy's accelerated heartbeat. 

"I see you're suddenly in a good mood," Lee commented sarcastically, having re-emerged from the pillow, blatantly trying to confirm his point: Fred is head over heels in love with Granger. 

"Cut it short Jordan, every stone this castle is built with knows it," George precedes him, "I told you my brother was fried."

Fred at that point tries to remain as composed as possible: knowing his feelings have been found out again by someone, is hard to swallow, "All the stones in this castle?" he asks matter-of-factly, scratching his head. That she'd figured it out too? 

"I was emphasizing." tells George, shrugging, "I wouldn't worry if I were you, Hermione is the blindest girl I've ever met." 

"You've got a point; if I'd caught Fred staring at me the way he stares at her, I'd have a few questions." Lee laughs, "We probably would have gone steady by now."

"I don't care to find out," the twin shakes his head, disgusted. 

"You have no idea what you're missing."

"Give it a rest you two: Jordan, didn't you have a date with Katie?" George interrupts them, pulling one of them away from the scene, "How would you like to go help Hermione tonight? I'm stuck with Angie, now that she's finally out of the infirmary." he's the one smiling like a dumbass, as Fred dips his face into the book to study the recipe. 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's mind for a moment is lost in thinking of an eternity of her and Fred together, but the girl quickly chases that dream away to get her feet back on the ground, "Did he show you the potion?" she asks as footsteps on the other side of the wall alarm her. Fred brings a finger to his lips again and gives her a wink, to once again intimate her to be as quiet as possible. Her heart begins to beat faster and she reaches for his hand: she squeezes it lightly, watching the closet door.
> 
> The twin shakes his head and, with a quick movement of his free hand, turns her face toward him, stepping closer, "Look at me, don't look at the door."

The Common Room that night is swarming with students: the younger ones have crammed into the left side, while the others fill the right side at every point. Of the latter, Ron Weasley is the most excruciatingly tired: for days now he has come to terms with the fact that Harry Potter, his best friend, is madly in love with his only sister. And bearing that is a terrible burden for him. 

Yet Hermione, oblivious to his emotional instability, has managed to give him the coup de grace: she is in love with Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger feel mutual interest, his sweet and dear friend is fraternizing with the enemy again: she must be attracted to that kind of man, Ron still thinks, sinking into his armchair. He watches her in the Common Room, as she stressfully taps her foot on the floor and keeps looking for the clock on the wall with her eyes. Does she have an appointment? 

Hermione does have an appointment, she's been waiting a long time to get out of the Common Room to meet one of the twins and do what she has to do: find the ingredient, make the potion, drink it. It's three small steps that separate her from her beloved peace of mind, just those. She talked it over with Ginny until a few minutes before and then went downstairs to check on what Harry and Ron were doing with their time. She looked for George among the multitude of people, hoped to see Fred smiling at her from one of the chairs, but when her eyes caught a glimpse of neither, she began to anxiously await her appointment time. _Was Fred going to show up too?_ Had George told him? 

Tapping his foot on the ground faster and faster, she wondered how much Fred actually knew. George, one of two devilish minds, must have asked himself a few questions that afternoon, he certainly can't go around the castle without the fixed thought that Hermione Granger took that candy too. She swallows, moving a lock of hair behind her ear, blatantly ignoring the look Ron has been giving her for a few minutes. Ron is about to stand up and ask her something, but he doesn't have time to open his mouth when Ginny comes down the stairs of the girls' dormitory. With clenched fists, casting an indecipherable glance at Hermione, she stops only when she reaches Harry, who hesitantly lifts his face from his _Potion_ task. 

For a moment, it's still peace that reigns, but the situation soon comes to a head: Ginny's hand asserts the Chosen One's tie and the girl brings their lips together. The Common Room, which has yet to recover from Lee and Katie's kiss, is turned upside down for a second time, but this time the scoop hovering is more important, worth numerous bets. Those who think it's just a joke, those who would like to talk to friends from other houses, and those, again, who are aiming to hear Ron Weasley's screams very soon. Ginny doesn't care about any of the voices she hears in the background - she's just focusing on the dumbfounded smile she sees plastered on Harry's face as soon as they part for the first time. She lets go of his tie, storing in her brain the memory of that kiss, his lips, the smell of parchment that fills the Hall, along with that of the fireplace. 

"More beautiful." whispers Harry, trying not to suddenly faint.

"How?"

The Chosen One shakes his head, smiling, "You're more beautiful than I remember." he finally manages to deliver, making her blush. 

Ron brings a hand to his heart, because he feels a painful twinge: Ginny has stopped being his sweet, innocent little sister, she will never be again. Then he stares at Harry and a strange urge to jump on him is soon suppressed, remembering that he is her best friend. _His little sister and his best friend._ He thinks about it so much that he doesn't notice that it's been at least two minutes since that kiss and that Ginny has been sitting next to the Chosen One, keeping him company during his Potions assignment, making everything normal right away, as if their relationship had already been established for months and not just a couple of minutes. 

Hermione, who has ended up in the most forgotten part of Ron's mind, smiles at the two of them and seems to have relaxed, but at the eleven o'clock chime, she goes back to tapping her foot against the ground, "We've got patrol." she whispers to her friend, barely touching his shoulder. 

Ron doesn't quite hear her, as his eyes are still fixed on Harry and Ginny, who are kissing for a second time as if nothing happened, "No."

"No what?"

"Not tonight, I'm not moving from here," the young Weasley seems to be adamant and clutches the arms of the chair he's sitting in with his hands. 

"Ronald, this is ridiculous." she comments, regaining some of her good humor, "It's Harry."

"And this is Ginny and I'm her brother, nice to meet you."

Hermione gives him a few more seconds to change his mind and apologize, but it's all for naught, "I'm not moving from here until they move."

"You're the hardest headed person I know," she finally says, shaking her face with a faint smile on her lips. 

⳧

With the patrol over, Hermione realizes that the heart beating in her chest is weighing heavily: walking down the halls knowing she's breaking her beloved rules, flaunting the Prefect pin for ulterior motives, are just a few reasons why she'd like to cancel that appointment. 

"Are you walking all alone?" Draco intercepts her turn. He hoped he could meet her, be with her long enough to carry on an old conversation. 

"It's not the night, Malfoy." she quickly stops him, picking up the pace, with the simple intent of being left alone.

"You're boring when you do that." he doesn't let go of her, it's delightful when Hermione pushes back, when she tries so hard to sound superior. 

"Draco, go to sleep." she crosses her arms over her chest, stopping in the middle of the hallway. 

"I can't sleep, when I think of you all alone around the castle: I want to be with you all night." she licks her lips, taking a few steps towards Hermione, who by now is used to being cornered by Draco. She shakes her head, smiling softly: after all, this is the candy talking.

"I'm going to bed, you should go too," she cuts in, retracing her path, pretending to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Draco however grabs her arm and traps her in his grip, tight, secure, warm. Hermione tries to wriggle out, but it's impossible. She stops to listen to Malfoy's heart beating wildly under his sweater, waiting for his next move. She stands still as he leans his face against her head, smelling the scent of her hair, cupping his hand over her belly. He notices that she's small, so tremendously small that he can't understand how she was able to punch him so hard two years before. He smiles, kissing her hair, "Come away with me." he whispers in her ear, tickling her neck. 

Hermione searches desperately for a figure in the dark: she knows the twin is there somewhere, watching them, pondering his moves as well. With a clear head, Fred might react rationally, but watching Draco Malfoy's hands around the girl he likes, he feels a strange jolt run through his body. 

"I don't want to go away with you." whispers Hermione, trying to separate her body from the boy holding her, "Let me go." 

"That wouldn't be any fun." Draco turns her face towards him, with a simple, sudden wave of his hand, longing to kiss those lips that are driving him crazy with every word, every plea. Hermione, on the other hand, doesn't want to know anything about those lips, so she's still trying to escape from that grasp, looking up at what she knows - at least for her it should - is George. But her mouth doesn't say his name, her mouth only asks for _Fred's_ help, for that boy who fills her mind non-stop, who is always there, who arrives unexpectedly, who always seems to know when something is wrong, when to make her laugh, when to save her from Draco's clutches. 

"I'm here." he says matter-of-factly, appearing alongside the two. He thought about crashing Malfoy, already with his wand in his hands and his lips ready to move, but when he heard his name, when he realized that Hermione was asking for his help - and not someone else's - he got his feet back on the ground, "I'm here, Hermione." he confirms once again, as Draco rolls his eyes, releasing the girl from his grasp and pushing her away. 

"One day I'll find you alone, no one can stop me again."

"Is that a threat?" asks Fred, covering Hermione's with his body, who dare not utter a word. 

"A promise." Draco flashes one last mischievous smile towards Granger, then disappears around the corner of the hallway. 

Fred turns to Hermione, "Is everything alright?" he asks her, as all the built up tension seems to melt away in an instant, the instant their eyes meet for the first time. 

"Thanks for the help, if I hadn't intervened, I would have crashed it most likely." Hermione smiles, showing him the wand she holds anchored in her hands, "Besides, I made a promise to your brother... By the way, where is George?"

"He's been busy with Angelina and sent me," the twin clarifies, scratching his head, "What promise did you make him?"

"That I would never, ever kiss Draco Malfoy."

The twin doesn't speak for a few seconds, he just looks at her face, so much so that she is forced to run a hand in front of his eyes to bring him back to reality, "Fred, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, you rather, are you sure you want to do something tonight?" he asks her thoughtfully, suddenly remembering the Slytherin's hands twisted around the girl. 

"Of cou... " she can't finish her sentence, that Mrs. Purr's intense mewing interrupts their conversation. Fred puts his finger over his mouth, intimating silence, and offers her his other hand to follow him. Hermione accepts it, thanking the little light in the corridors at night, because she's sure she's turned the same color as the Gryffindor banners. She's out in the halls, past curfew time, with Fred Weasley himself, who she may like and is definitely holding her hand. _Isn't that too much?_ She forces her mind to be quiet as her twin drags her to a closet not far away, lighting the tip of his wand with a spell. 

"As soon as it's safe we're going back to the dorms," he tells her mischievously, sitting down on a crate, "I wouldn't want to taint Hermione Granger's good record with punishment."

She rolls her eyes, barely smiling, "I'm afraid it's too late." she finally comments, "Need I remind you that I've been hanging out with Harry Potter for five years, not to mention... "

"The brilliant idea of Dumbledore's Army was yours, yes I'm aware of that," Fred concludes, making room for her on the crate so that she can sit down. 

Hermione, still embarrassed by the compliment her twin paid her, tries to tone it down, "Do you and George lock yourselves in here often?"

"We lock ourselves in all the time and everywhere, you should know that," he smiles at her, stopping looking at her and leaning his head against the wall, "Everywhere because it's nice to find out that Hogwarts remains infinite and always well... Because waiting for Filch to stop looking takes forever."

Hermione's mind for a moment is lost in thinking of an _eternity_ of her and Fred together, but the girl quickly chases that dream away to get her feet back on the ground, "Did he show you the potion?" she asks as footsteps on the other side of the wall alarm her. Fred brings a finger to his lips again and gives her a wink, to once again intimate her to be as quiet as possible. Her heart begins to beat faster and she reaches for his hand: she squeezes it lightly, watching the closet door.

The twin shakes his head and, with a quick movement of his free hand, turns her face toward him, stepping closer, "Look at me, don't look at the door."

She appreciates the attempt to calm her down, but when she finds him inches away, she's sure she can't calm down. She loses herself in Fred's magnetic eyes, watching every nuance, trying to memorize the color. In the meantime, she has finished every drop of saliva in her mouth, distracted as she is by the twin who is now smiling at her, "That's better, see?"

She nods slowly, realizing that the air has become more tense and that Fred has moved a few more millimeters closer. Or has she moved closer? 

The seconds pass like minutes, it's as if she can hear the loud, slow ticking of a clock in her head: she tries not to think about it, as the boy's face is less and less distant. Fred leans his forehead against Hermione's and smiles mischievously, "The dew hadn't melted yet." he whispers to her, breaking the magic, "That's what I was thinking this morning, that if the dew hasn't melted yet, it means winter is coming and it'll soon be Christmas and I'll be able to give you Auntie Muriel's panties, as promised."

Hermione tries not to laugh, because it would be a really loud laugh, and remains firm in her stance, "Fred Weasley, you are... "

"Extraordinary, beautiful, magnificent, indescribable?"

"Impossible, I was looking for impossible." she corrects him, finally pulling their two faces apart to look at every corner of the closet, saving in her mind the name of the crate they are sitting on, the mold in the right corner, and the number of brooms picked up. 

"I think it's safe now, shall we go back?" proposes Fred, though for a moment Hermione notices a hint of sadness in his eyes. But that is not the night to solve a riddle, once again, she has her mind somewhere else. 

She watches him, as he stands up and offers her a hand to follow him out the door. She walks more slowly, watching him from behind, studying the shape of his shoulders: she's sure he's risen a few inches since the end of summer, but she can't tell the exact number. She's also sure that, in some strange way, he's matured: he's distracted her long enough not to think that someone was looking for her behind the wall and, right there on the edge of her lips, he's stopped. Hermione brings her eyes to the floor, ignoring the words that are coming out of Fred's mouth at that moment: he stopped. Within kissing distance, with a mischievous smile, he stopped. 

"And in the end that's why... " he tells her, letting her enter the Common Room first, where the fireplace is slowly dying down. 

"You stopped." she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest. Again, as she had for far too long, Hermione thought, oh, _what the hell_ , there are times when you just can't shut up. 

"What?"

Suddenly coming back to herself, she turns the same color as the Gryffindor banner and runs a strand of hair behind her ear, scared that he heard her, "I'm tired." is all she manages to say, searching her eyes for the stairs to the women's dormitory, then quickly taking them, hearing the whisper of a good night from downstairs. 


	16. Chapter fifteen

The next morning, Hermione is undecided whether or not to go down to the Common Room. The idea of meeting Fred's eyes, seeing him and talking to him sends her stomach into an uproar. She stops in front of the mirror, letting out a long sigh: it's only Fred Weasley, not Lord Voldemort. So she takes courage, greets Lavender who is still in bed and goes down the steps, soon reaching the Great Hall for breakfast. She notices, as soon as she arrives, that the conversation Ron is having with Harry dies immediately, they cut her off before she can even hear a word. They smile innocently, making room for her. She pays no mind to their behavior, still caught up in imagining her next encounter with the twin. 

Ginny is the first of the other siblings to reach the table: she's sporting a toothy smile, which some can't conceive of at first, because Guinevere has never been so happy in the morning, but when her lips quickly reach Harry Potter's it's clear to all the other Hogwarts students: a new couple is born.

Ron rolls his eyes, "Do you have to? Early in the morning? You're spoiling my appetite." 

Ginny, sitting to Hermione's right, shakes her head, "You're just jealous." 

"I'm not jealous, I'm just saying that people should be thinking about eating in the morning, not smooching, or not? Hermione, do I look jealous?"

Her friend, who has her gaze lost in her empty plate, takes a few seconds to realize the situation, "Can you repeat that, Ron? I wasn't listening to you." Neville, who has been there all along, stops eating, followed closely by Harry and Ron himself - has Hermione lost her train of thought? It happens that she gets distracted looking at something out the window, but when she returns with her mind to the topic, she is able to repeat by heart everything that she seems to have lost a few seconds before: that's why it's so tiring for the twins to sell their wares in the Common Room, because Hermione hardly misses or doesn't hear something. 

"Are you feeling all right?" asks her Harry, genuinely concerned.

The young witch, before answering, realizes that she really doesn't have an answer: loaded like a mule with responsibility, she's being chased at every turn by an excited Draco Malfoy, and the candy keeps making her think she's hopelessly in love with...

"Good... "

"... Morning!" Fred and George break the harmony of the table, sitting to the left of Hermione, who looks at them, hiding her terror. Now that she sees them together, perhaps because she's already distracted herself, she can't tell who is one and who is the other, who is sitting next to her and who, instead, is a seat further away. At the end of the day, she already knows that her heart is beating too fast in her chest. 

"It's okay, Harry," she lies to her friends, as Ginny watches the scene amused. 

"So you don't think I'm jealous?" asks Ron again at this point, now that Hermione's attention is back to what it used to be. 

"Jealous of?" George, who the young Gryffindor, much to her relief, discovers is the closest twin to her, slips into the conversation with a wide smile.

"About Harry and I, he says that seeing us kissing puts a damper on his appetite." Ginny replies first, swallowing a large slice of jam-smeared bread in two bites. 

"I'm just saying it's not the first thing I'm interested in seeing in the morning, it's not like I'm stopping him."

"If that's the case, you might as well not even look at us," the youngest of the Weasleys hunched over, throwing a sweet smile at Harry, who hid his entire face in his coffee cup to avoid taking sides. Similarly, the twins went off to breakfast, talking amongst themselves about the latest shipment of manufactured Skiving Snackboxes, and Neville quickly got up from the table, before being thrown into the middle of the conversation. 

"So?" Ron raises an eyebrow at Hermione, asking her the same thing for the third time, demanding to have an answer. She swallows slowly, aware that she didn't try hard enough to be transparent that morning and that she arrived too late to read the Gazette. Underpressure, as Ron's, Ginny's, and Harry's eyes stare deep into her, her mind begins to race like never before: she thinks about her parents waiting for her at home, the last line of the _Transfiguration_ assignment she handed in to McGranitt, the smile Dumbledore threw her in the hallway, and _honey_. She's wondered since she took her seat at the table that morning why the honey bottle seemed so important to her, but in that moment, as Ron clears his throat, she understands. She takes the jar in one hand and pulls at George's sweater sleeve with the other, "It's the honey." she tells him with a toothy smile. 

Ron doesn't follow her, once again he's sure he's lost her attention and casts a curious glance at Harry, who shrugs resignedly.

"Honey... Create?" asks George, leaving Fred to stuff his face with the pancakes that have just appeared on the table. 

"It's used to make mead and ale." she nods quietly, standing up, "Would you come help me?" she asks him, forcing Ron to stop eating for the second time that morning. 

George shakes his head, but in less than a few seconds he is at her side and has already taken the bottle of honey in his hands, "I never would have gotten there."

"Me neither." comments Fred, wiping a corner of his mouth and reaching for them as fast as he can. The other twin raises an eyebrow, rather amused, as Hermione stops just outside the Great Hall. 

"I only need George's help... " she says almost in a whisper, avoiding looking up at Fred who, she can imagine, is staring at her in confusion. 

"Oh... Don't worry, I've got business to attend to." she says with a smile, putting her hands in her pockets and starting to head towards the Gryffindor Common Room. 

"Fred." Hermione's voice stops him just as his right foot touches the first step and he turns around, with a stupid - really stupid - ephemeral hope in his heart, "Don't try to sell products to the first graders while I'm gone, I'd find out anyway." she threatens him, pulling George by the sleeve, who greets his twin with unconvinced hand nods. 

⳧

Hermione continues to walk alongside George, casting her gaze towards the windows to get lost in the scenery outside.

"You know, Fred is very good at Potions," he exclaims at one point, resting a hand on his lips, expecting to see Hermione's face turn in his direction. 

But she doesn't turn around, her heart is all in turmoil and she doesn't want to be seen with her defenses down, " _Oh yeah_? I always thought you were the more talented one."

"Fred and I complement each other, I'm exactly as good as he is: he knows steps that I have trouble with, and in the same way I help him when he's in trouble," he tells her with a wicked smile, thinking of all the experiments they've carried out over the years, "We could have used that."

The words "Fred" and "let's complete" seem to strike her deep, so much so that she lowers her gaze to the ground, defeated. She wishes she could say it too, that they help each other, that they are two halves of a perfect apple. But just thinking about it makes her feel strange: Fred is a friend, he's the closest person she's had in a long time, not taking anything away from Ron and Harry. Fred doesn't ask her for anything in return, he's just there. 

"I thought we'd get through this faster on our own," she makes an excuse, "When you're together all you do is talk and talk, it would have slowed us down."

The two boys look at each other now, so much so that all George has to do is shrug his shoulders to end the conversation and quicken his pace towards the Potions classroom, "Sorry we had to stop here, I forgot the book with the recipe under my desk yesterday when I came to find the other ingredients."

Hermione followed him with her gaze, "So that's where you're sitting?" she asked, trying to tamp down the obvious awkwardness that came with it. 

"This is my seat, next to it of course I just want Angie, and Fred sits up front here," he says, disappearing under his desk, re-emerging holding a couple of papers written by his girlfriend, " _Misery_."

"What's going on?" Hermione bends her head a few degrees, curious.

"I forgot I had to take these back to Angelina, she's really going to kill me this time."

"Bring them to her, I'll wait here," she offers quietly, brushing her hand against the classroom desk. 

George looks up at the girl, who has a beaming smile plastered on her face, "Are you sure?"

As soon as the boy exits the classroom, Hermione scratches her neck with one hand, feeling the pressure drop. The solitude calms the rapid beating of her heart, which started when she saw Fred in the Great Hall. She takes a couple of steps into the room, stroking those tables she knows well, stopping to look at the one where he sits, imagining it. Finally, smiling, she sits there. 

She leans her face against the wood, squinting her eyes. Fred has been there, writing there, laughing there. Her heart, though it had calmed down, starts running non-stop again. She tries to remember his scent, to imprint his voice in her mind: she imagines that he is close to her, imagines that nothing has happened. Since they've been back at school they've drifted apart, by necessity. They see each other on breaks, in the Common Room before bed, sometimes they meet at the lake, but it's not like usual. It's not like bumping into each other across Grimmauld Place every hour, smiling at each other, talking to each other. Hermione understands this, Hogwarts is a whole other thing: there are the classes, the homework, Dumbledore's army, and even the exams she's preparing for. 

Yet, in her heart, despite the incident the night before, there is only the desire to be able to spend more time with him. She clenches her eyes shut, squinting her lips to say his name. _Fred_.

⳧

As Hermione's back disappears around the corner, a sudden vice grips Fred's heart: _is it jealousy_? He shakes his head, climbing the stairs to his dormitory. 

He's going crazy, letting himself be pulled into an ever-deepening abyss. He wishes he could watch Hermione studying in the Library, like he used to do at Grimmauld Place, he wishes he could sit next to her at dinner, he wishes he could run a hand through her hair when she falls asleep exhausted in a corner of the Common Room. When he reaches his room he lies down on the bed and hides his face with his arms, smiling mischievously: he has realized that he cannot escape Hermione Granger. Because when he sees her at the end of the corridor, everything disappears. Because when he hears her voice, all other speech goes silent. Because, he can tell, she's the first girl he's ever fallen in love with. 

He scratches his bicep as his heart begins to beat fast: she's thinking about him. As much as he'd like to be happy about it, he knows, she and George are probably talking about him. 

He imagines her face flushed, her biting her lip, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear: she does this when she's stressed, or particularly focused on what she's doing. And as he imagines her, he remembers the night before, his face a few millimeters away, his forehead slowly touching hers, her hazel eyes as deep as a cauldron. He would have liked to kiss her, to pass a hand behind her head, to bring her just a drop closer so he could embrace her, but in the end he stopped, as if he had forgotten both the practice and the theory. On his face, all that was left was that silly, mischievous smile. Did Hermione notice? Would she have wanted it? _Would she have kissed him back?_ Or would she have walked away? 

He gets out of bed, stressed, just as the floor beneath his feet begins to disappear and he feels himself being sucked into a black hole. For a moment he wants to scream, but the sound of Hermione's voice, calling his name, soothes him, negates any questions. _Fred_.

The first thing he notices, when he hits the ground again, is her. He shifts his gaze to the classroom, which is so familiar to him, realizing that he has moved inside the Hogwarts school. He tilts his head, giving his full attention to Hermione, who is lying on her desk. Sitting in Fred's seat, heedless that he is in the same classroom as her, she smiles. She smiles because it was nice to be able to say his name, even if not out loud. 

A sudden movement behind her catches her attention and she turns around: she finds her twin looking at her evilly, his face held up by the palm of his hand. She blushes vividly, trying to make an excuse in her mind, but before she can speak, he leaps up and pats her forehead. 

"Where did you leave my brother?" he asks, trying to stay calm. 

"He went to drop something off to Angelina, asked me to wait here for him."

"I felt like you didn't want me before and now I find you sitting on my desk, you're throwing mixed messages at me," he says, dropping the bombshell. Fred locks his gaze with hers, wanting to disappear. He can't understand why, after abandoning him in the Great Hall, he should find her there, a smile on her face, sitting at his desk. He can't understand how he managed to move from the dormitory to the _Potions_ classroom, but he has no trouble believing it's because of the candy. And again, he can't understand her anymore, can't read behind her eyes. He's tired of being left without answers, of just staying. Fred would like to be privy to all of Hermione's thoughts, to be her shoulder, her confidant, he would even like to be his own desk, just so he could spend more time with her. Yet his expression says nothing, he doesn't want to tell her anything. He too, like her, is unsure. Jump in? He would, if it didn't mean ruining one of the most important friendships of his life. 

_Oh, the hell with it._ That's what Hermione is thinking at the same time. She's risked death she doesn't even know how many times, she punched Malfoy, it was her idea to create Dumbledore's Army: she's done far more dangerous things, than admit to sitting in Fred's seat. 

"I realized I wasn't being nice before, I was sorry to ask you not to come," she says, all in one breath, as his expression gradually changes, "The truth is, when you're not here, _I miss you_. I miss our relationship before Hogwarts and yet, every time we get the chance to spend time together, I have no idea how to act anymore." Hermione turns her whole body towards him, leaning over George's table, getting closer and closer.

"It's been so long, since we found ourselves studying together, but it's not like I can ask you to come to the Library, you hate going in there. And at dinner you spend time with your friends, while I have mine, and I don't think it's nice to come and tell you that you shouldn't eat fast, that you'll get sick. Or again..." Fred doesn't let her finish, because he quickly passes a hand behind her head, as he would have wanted to do the night before, hiding his face against her chest. His heart is pounding: he would have liked to corner her, keep her on the coals, tease her mischievously, but Hermione finally beat him back. 

"If you want to spend time with me, you'll just have to tell me," he managed to find the words, leaning his head against her head, which still didn't move, "I can always carve out a chunk of my day for a chat with you."

Hermione has her forehead nestled against Fred's shoulder, fully immersed in his scent, and because of that, she's sure her heart is about to explode. She is thanking her lucky stars that she is leaning against a table, because otherwise she would have already fallen to the floor. 

"Hermione, are you still here? Sorry it took me so long, but... " George's voice stops in mid-air, watching the girl and her brother quickly part ways, completely embarrassed. 

"I'll see you at dinner, then?" she asks, getting up from the table without waiting for an answer and advancing with wide strides towards the exit of the classroom. 

George raises an eyebrow in the direction of Fred, who doesn't respond. He hides his mouth behind his palm, lowering his gaze to the ground. _Misery_. He can't stop himself anymore. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Reaching the twins' storeroom, Hermione begins to pull out the ingredients she's bothered to procure for the recipe: she does so with a strange eagerness, her movements mechanical, awkward.

"Are you sure we need all this stuff?" George raises an eyebrow, getting a better look at the vial of worm mucus Hermione pulls out of her bag. 

"I spent all night studying the recipe," the young woman clarifies, taking the vial back, "And you should have, too." after splashing off to the dorms and leaving Fred alone in the Common Room, sleep struggled to catch up with her: so she settles down on the bed, with the recipe written on the parchment, and begins to read it carefully, waiting or hoping to spot the last ingredient.

George rests his head on his hand, watching her sort through the ingredients meticulously. When she looks up, her heart skips a beat. It's never occurred to her to think about it, but the pose the twin has assumed reminds her of Fred. Considering their nature, there's not much to be surprised about, she knows too that they are the same in every way: the face has the same cut, as do the nose and mouth. It's the eyes and the position of the freckles that have always helped her tell them apart. Fred's eyes tend much more toward green, reminding her of the colorful meadows around the Burrow, while George's is the color of the sky, the one lit by the summer sun. She bites her lip, lowering her gaze again, embarrassed. Her heart has managed to calm down very little since leaving the _Potions_ classroom, because she still has Fred's clean scent in her nostrils, which doesn't hint at leaving in the slightest. 

"Hermione." George draws her attention back, passing a hand in front of her eyes, "Did you hear me?" he bends his head, smiling mischievously at her. 

"What?" 

"I read the recipe and you don't need worm mucus," he says, opening the book for her to see.

Hermione runs her eyes over the page, surprised: George is right, she was wrong, "I'm sorry, I was in a hurry and... "

She doesn't finish the sentence, because George is stroking her head, "You need to relax, it's just a potion." 

Easy for him to say, he has nothing to work out, but Hermione is realizing that something in her is changing, that maybe she's falling in love, she's realized that she can't read if she's thinking about Fred, and she's realized that she just can't stop thinking about Fred. And that Fred, on the contrary, stops. She needs the potion to work, to make everything - as much as possible - go back to the way it was. 

"I don't want to kiss Draco." she hunches, clutching her knees to the chest, leaning her back against one of the boxes of Skiving Snackboxes the twins keep in their storage room. George folds his sleeves up to his elbow as he continues to hear her speak, turning on the cauldron with a wave of his wand, "Let's get started then, shall we?" he tells her, scratching his neck, "You should pass me three scoops of the base ingredient." 

Hermione does as she's told, then begins to peel the mistletoe berries so she doesn't fall behind in preparing the recipe.

"Anyway, it says to turn it first to the right three times and then always to the left," she reminds him, despite being intent on doing something else and forcing George to roll his eyes with a smile. Hermione is and always will be Hermione, with her quirks of perfectionism, but it's funny to think that someone like her managed to put his messy, crazy twin's heart in a cage. 

He thinks about it, as the young woman tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and bites her bottom lip, that they couldn't be more different those two, in some ways completely opposite. Yet they also seem to be so right, as if their difference will smooth out when they meet, as if their difference can make them more authentic. George shakes his head, decidedly annoyed that they haven't gotten there yet: _is it so hard to realize that they're meant for each other?_

"Now what?" Hermione breaks her thick thoughts, adding two drops of honey to the cauldron along with the peeled berries.

"It should turn green now." the twin smiles as the potion slowly turns the liquid a couple of times, as per the recipe. 

Hermione drops her eye out the window, where the sun is high in the sky, a sign that it is now lunchtime. A strange feeling grips her heart: she hoped that sooner or later Fred would show up with an excuse, just to say hello, but it's impossible now. 

"We need to let her rest until tomorrow night."

She shifts her gaze to the boy, who has stood up all achy, running his hands over his back to loosen up his tense muscles. She looks at him and _oh, what the hell_. 

"Thank you." she says, getting up as well, "For helping me with the potion..." she looks down at the ground, "And for not asking me anything." she knows he's curious, wanting to know why he found her in the classroom with Fred, why that potion is so urgent, why she's so embarrassed every time her brother jumps into the conversation. 

George laughs, "It's like you're part of the family, it would have been rude to leave you to your own devices, considering it's so important."

Hermione smiles as a strange warmth runs through her body: _family_? It's a new happiness she feels, warmer. She's serene as she gathers her things to follow her twin out of the warehouse to go eat, though she can't stop thinking that if she really is family, then she runs the risk of being the victim of their pranks every day, just like everyone else. 

"Although it would have been funnier to see you kiss Fred, wouldn't it?"

Hermione's hand freezes in midair as she turns her head to look at George who is staring at her mischievously, his hands in his pockets. _Misery_. 

"We're just friends, I'm not... " she hastens to explain, trying to remain as composed as possible. She forces her face not to be colored with a heavy blush as she is forced to participate in a staring contest with her twin. 

"In love?" George finishes the sentence for her with obvious amusement, "There's something you don't know about that candy, Hermione."

"What?"

The twin smiles at her, it's a smile so wide and sincere it's almost scary for her to wait for the answer, "They don't really transform anything, they accentuate feelings of course, but feelings of love."

Hermione frowns at him, one eyebrow raised defiantly and a hand on her hip, "So you would be telling me that Draco Malfoy is really in love with me? Make up a more believable one, George," she retorts soothed by that thought, "I don't like Fred Weasley."

"So, let's say you really aren't in love with my brother and that candy turns feelings into love, why him?"

Hermione half-closes her lips, surprised by that question herself, having asked it so many times in the previous days, but never finding an answer. Because Fred is... 

"We're friends, it's because he's my friend." she hunches, then tightens her lips as much as she can, letting some tension show on her face. 

George leans against the desk behind her, leaving one leg dangling and the other still touching the floor, "Friends?" he asks his mischievously, aware that he knows a lot more and has seen a lot more, "Let's say again that the candy is turning your friendship into love, what effect have you had?"

"George, do you seriously expect me to tell you?" Hermione crosses her arms over her chest, smiling, "Already it seems inconceivable to me that you would find out that... " The twin looks at her, as she starts pacing back and forth in the small warehouse, gesturing and carrying on a speech that doesn't seem to be in heaven or on earth. He tries to stop her, but she is like a fury, "...Fred and I are friends you know? And I don't know how much he knows about this candy, but if he thinks like you do, he'll get a head start and maybe he won't want to know about me, but even if he doesn't... Come on, can you imagine? Me and your brother being together?" she asks, obviously heated, "Because to me it seems like it might be a weird thing, I'm not saying impossible, just... Don't tell him I said it's not impossible... George Weasley don't you dare tell him anything!"

The twin tries to stifle a laugh, "I promise I won't tell him anything." he says, raising his hands in surrender when he finds Hermione's index finger a few millimeters from his nose, "Provided, of course, that I know what effect you had and what color the candy was."

"You're a tyrant."

"I'm just good for business, you should know that." George shrugs nonchalantly, composing himself again to listen to her. 

"I can't read when I think about him anymore," he says with a edge to his voice, looking at the floor.

"You think about him all the time!" blurts out the twin evidently amused by the situation, remembering only seconds later his stupid mistake, aided also by the young woman's intrigued expression, "I mean, of course you have to think about him a lot, what would be the effect?"

"In fact I think of Fred _a lot_ , but it's not that I'm in love with him, it's the candy that puts him in my head all the time."

"What about the color? If you need it, I can look up one of those candies and make you.... "

"It was the color of his eyes, I don't need to see it again, it was just the color of his eyes." Hermione barely blushes on her cheeks, as if she has gotten the biggest secret of her life off her shoulders. 

George smiles contentedly as he shakes his head, "And still you insist on telling me you're not tremendously in love with my brother, you're so stubborn." 

⳧

At lunch, Hermione has no intention of sitting next to Fred. She doesn't want to eat with George's pressing gaze fixed on her. Yet, when Ron tells her that he has reserved a seat for her and her eyes run to the twin, she sees a hint of sadness in his. Fred wishes he could have had her beside him, wished he could have talked to her some more, stolen food off her plate, made her laugh, heard the sound of her voice, smelled the scent of her hair. He shifts his gaze as George catches up with him all perky. 

He's over the moon that he's finally put the last piece of the puzzle in place: even Hermione has finally let go and revealed the truth to him. They like each other, Fred and she really like each other, both of them, liking each other so much that they are stupid and blind. 

"How did it go with George?" asks Harry, smiling at her quietly. 

Hermione looks up at her friends, still with a flushed face from the conversation she had earlier with her twin, "It went fine."

This is the second time she's lied to Harry and Ron, but she doesn't know how to begin the conversation. How to tell them both that she's happy for them, that she's happy to see that Ginny has a requited love, that Ron is looking for a solution to his obvious crush, but that she's scared that she's probably discovered _herself_ in love. That she really doesn't know what love is, what it's like. That her chest, every time she turns to Fred it hurts, like it's going to burst at any moment. That when she hears his voice she touches the sky with one finger, that when their eyes meet there is no one else but Fred. Fred exists, of course he exists, but he is also a person with feelings and his can't be changed at will. Hermione wishes, she wishes she could say she loved him, but she wishes she could feel that she was loved by him in the same way. 

She rolls her eyes back to Fred as her friends begin a thick conversation about Quidditch. She sees him laughing at one of Lee's jokes and thinks that, of course, he's handsome. When he laughs, he seems to be enlightened -Hermione noticed during her vacation at the Burrow that if Fred is laughing, he's coloring. 

She thinks about George's words, they've been hammering in her head for minutes: if he's right, she really is in love. The more she hears them, the more she imagines them, the more she feels crushed, tiny little in her place in the Great Hall: she's been trying to convince herself, every time she mirrors herself in her twin's eyes, that that would be nothing, that it's just friendship, that it can't cross a certain threshold. Yet now it all seems to have fallen apart, it seems her heart has betrayed her brain. 

Logically, Hermione could never have fallen in love with one of the twins, the one who dematerialized in all the rooms in the morning at Grimmauld Place, the one who doesn't even respect his own rules. Yet her heart seems unable to forget even all that Fred is, but hides well: Fred is the fresh air of a summer sunset, Fred makes people laugh, Fred is an optimist, Fred is one of the most beautiful and pure people she has ever met in her life. 

"Is everything okay?" Ginny brings her back to reality quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder and positioning herself exactly in the path that connects her eyes to the twin's figure.

_Oh, what the hell._

"I'm afraid I really like him." she whispers to her friend, covering her face with her hand, "I'm afraid I like his smile, his laugh, his relaxed way of taking in life, the sound his heart makes as it beats, the color of his hair, that mole on his neck, the profile of his face... "

She could go on and on, but Ginny stops her, running a hand through her hair affectionately, "I'm rooting for you, good luck."


	18. Chapter Seventeen

The next afternoon, Hermione decides to hole up with Harry and Ron in the library, hoping not to think too much about the twin, the potion, and Draco. She takes her eyes off her parchment to watch her two friends whisper something inaudible to each other, but she's pretty sure they're complaining about too much work. She smiles, her heart suddenly lighter, "I'm going to go find a book." she then informs them in a low voice.

They greet her with a brief wave of their hands and she returns it, before reaching the Spells section: sometimes, she thinks, she might even get lost inside that library if she wasn't careful. The ancient tomes greet her like family, some flying to the sides of her face, others remaining still in hopes of being noticed even in silence. Hermione, however, is looking for one book in particular, the one that, she notes bitterly, is on the top shelf and is hard to reach: she makes to reach for her wand in her pocket, but realizes she's forgotten it at the table. She sighs, looking for a ladder. 

"Fred is always around bothering me, never being there when I really need him," she complains in a whisper, gathering her hair into a bun, heading to the end of the section to retrieve the long wooden ladder. She tries to pull it towards her and as she backs away, she bumps into someone and turns hastily to apologize, "Sorr... Fred?" She blushes visibly for two reasons: because, once again, her mind immediately thought of him and because, as if by magic, he came to help her again. 

" _Hermione_?" the twin looks just as confused, mainly because one moment he was in his room and now he finds himself in the Library.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione turns completely around, leaning her back against the wooden staircase. 

Fred looks at her strangely, tilting his head slightly, "Were you thinking of me?" he asks her with a completely innocent manner, genuinely curious as to how she is able to teleport around the castle. 

Hermione pulls her shirt sleeves up to her elbows, "I wasn't thinking of you, Fred." she clarifies practically, "I was just considering it would be useful to have you here, since I need a book and I can't reach it." she explains methodically, trying not to be awkward. 

Fred smiles wickedly, "You're a witch and you need me to get a book?" he moves a few inches closer, "Are you sure you didn't miss me and just wanted to spend time with me?"

"Fred, I really need that book." Hermione, her cheeks blanched, hides between the long ladder and the shelf, passing an arm between the steps. She stays looking at him, her face tilted upward as if asking for more with her body and less with her voice. 

Fred plays with that look for a bit, even moving a strand of hair from her face, but with his usual mischievous smile, he backs away a few steps, "What book?" 

Hermione plucks up courage and guides him to the other end of the aisle and points confidently at him, only realizing later that even he's too short to reach, "You really have high expectations." the twin comments with a laugh, "I don't even have my wand with me."

"What kind of wizard walks around the castle without his wand?" she asks with a hint of amusement, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Where's yours?" the young man raises an eyebrow curiously, extending his lips in a wicked smile as she looks away and blushes. 

It's a matter of seconds as she lingers in her obvious embarrassment, Fred wraps his arms around her and lifts her a few feet off the ground, "Take it, come on." he urges her amusedly as Hermione takes a second to realize. Squeezed in that grip, she realizes she likes it, the scent of the twin becoming intense, she doesn't want to take that book, for fear of breaking the magic. Eventually her mind gets the better of her, sorry for weighing too much, she retrieves the tome she needs and Fred slides it over him, without laying it completely on the ground. It is the book that separates them by a few inches and Hermione, for the first time in her life, would turn it into ashes. 

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry pops up from the end of the aisle, watching Fred's shoulders relax: he doesn't notice, from that angle, that the two are hugging and letting go, pretending to carry on any conversation.

"Yeah, Fred helped me pick up a book," the young woman snaps back with a smile, not taking her eyes off her twin's face, who has a wicked grin plastered on his face, "I'm... I'm going back to study, I'll see you, okay?"

⳧

Hermione has always believed in the possibility of time travel and holds her junior year experience in her heart, as exhausting as it was. Jumping into the past at will, reliving moments, being in multiple places at once is something she misses. Because, she realizes, time flows through her hands like water: she doesn't have time to stop a moment, everything is fast, eventful. When two days before, George told her to wait for the potion to be ready, she was sure she would have to wait for eternity. 

Instead, she was swamped on all sides: Ginny came to her for advice on her first afternoon alone with Harry, Harry did the same, Ron had her correct her Potions paper, McGranitt summoned her to her study to compliment her on a paper she couldn't remember even writing, and she even had time to talk to Fred in the library. When she hit the bed, distraught, she finally remembered to set her alarm as early as possible to meet George and retrieve the potion bottles: one for her, for Ron and Draco. The twin, as previously agreed, would take care of getting Tiger and Fred to drink it. Hermione's heart, whenever she thought of the possible effects of the latter, stopped aching, afraid of losing him forever.

These days, Fred has been an almost constant thought, present and bubbling in her mind: she has painted so many moments, imagined others. She sighs as her hand easily remembers the moment when, with one finger, she touched all the freckles on her twin's face and joined them with made-up lines, like constellations. 

Fred, who is running down the fifth-floor corridor with all the breath in his body, suddenly has to stop, as a strange cool wind runs across his face: as if someone were touching him at that moment. Then he looks back, remembering why he was in such a hurry, and, one step after the other, he turns the corner before Filch manages to catch up with the one before. He notices, to his pleasant surprise, that a few feet away, Hermione is walking thoughtlessly, glancing out the windows from time to time. 

He increases his speed, jamming the fingers of his hand into hers, which startles, "Fred Weasley, what the hell... " she manages to say, casting that same look into her twin's eyes to make sure she's talking to the right one. 

"You have to run." he whispers in her ear, taking her with him as Filch's voice reaches them from across the hall. Hermione swallows, trying to best position the strap over her shoulder so she doesn't lose it - a strange feeling grips her stomach as she mentally curses him. 

She has something to do that morning, she can't just stand around running through the halls with Fred Weasley's laughter in her ears. She has to look for people, solve problems, attend class before lunch. But beyond her thoughts, she increases the speed of her run and catches up to him, stopping getting carried away, because she's not going to stand one step behind. When she reaches him, Fred's heart does a flip in his chest: as if he's undressing her, he smiles mischievously at her, printing in his mind the figure of Hermione Granger with flushed cheeks and hair that keeps fluttering around her face. 

Touching the sky with one finger, he descends the steps two by two, continuing to watch her, who is getting carried away in her laughter and because of that, remains a little behind the boy. Fred splits their hands, reaching the end of the steps faster, then turning around, opening his arms, "Jump." he urges her, smiling. 

Time to decide, Filch reaches the beginning of the stairs, which likes to move. Hermione realizes that if she doesn't jump, she's doomed. For what then? _Why is Fred running?_ What has he done this time? She looks up, as she starts running again and... _Oh, screw it._

Fred, who's looking down at her, smiles and it seems to him that time is starting to run in slow motion: Hermione's hair is scattered all over the place, her cheeks are still flushed, but the light in her eyes is unmistakable: she's having the time of her life doing something illegal. Then everything starts to get hectic again, Hermione's body crashing against Fred's, who has no trouble staying on his feet and holding her tightly in his arms.

"I got you." he whispers, still holding her in his grip. He smiles, watching Hermione's face look up at him in embarrassment, clasping her hands around his neck. Slowly her body slides against her twin's and, almost reluctantly, she touches the ground. 

"You caught me because I let you catch me," she replies in a saccharine tone, not taking her eyes off her twin's face. 

"Would you have rather been taken by Filch?" Fred raises an eyebrow, laughing, as she shakes her head. Before she can speak, the bell at the end of first period reminds the girl that she can't be in her twin's arms. She pulls away from him, hoping no one has noticed them, noticing a hint of sadness in Fred's eyes. 

"I have to go." she says hastily, passing a strand of hair behind her ear, continuing down the stairs. 

"Hermione." he calls back, leaning over to be seen, when she has now reached a new flight. She looks up, noticing Fred's face staring at her mischievously, "You won't get off so easy next time." She laughs again, answering him with a quick wave of her hand, continuing down the stairs, shaking her head. Even Fred, taking the fourth floor hallway, can't stop laughing. 

_⳧_

Draco Malfoy, since his third year at Hogwarts, has been keeping a huge secret. He hasn't told anyone about it, never would he even dare to open up the subject to anyone, especially his father. Now, at the beginning of his fifth year, this secret is wearing him down inside. Since his third year, after being punched in the face by Hermione Granger, Draco realized that he felt something more than contempt for that girl. He began to pity her, to see her as a real person, to follow her around the halls with his eyes, to turn around every time someone said her name, to curse himself for turning around. 

Draco Malfoy, over time, found himself in love with Hermione, who is always the smartest, who cares about others, who in her own way makes people laugh, who with all the books she carries in her shoulder strap always has a hard time getting to the library, Hermione who is Prefect like him, Hermione who screams in the stands of the World Cup and laughs with one of the twins. And Draco has that smile plastered on his head, wishing fervently that it'd pop it out sooner or later. 

He sits under a tree in the Hogwarts garden, running a hand over his face: it seems that this secret has been wanting to get out for a few days. Draco can't take it anymore, he wants to get Hermione, he wants to bring these feelings of his to life. He would like to scream to everyone that he is in love with the Gryffindor and that he doesn't care anymore, but he knows that the consequences could be serious. He lets out a deep sigh, which lights up the laughter of someone beside him. He quickly opens his eyes, surprised, as he turns his gaze right to the cause of all his ills. 

"Granger, what do you want?" he asks, dismissively, as his heart bursts in his chest, watching the girl's curls fall to the left side of his shoulder. 

"I've been looking for you." she says quietly, sitting down in front of him, as if she's forgotten about all the ambushes Draco has laid on her. The Slytherin raises a hesitant eyebrow, beginning to torture his hands to engage both mind and body. 

"I've noticed that something in you has changed lately, and it seems only fair to make it clear to you why in person," she begins to speak, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, "A few days ago, Fred and George made you take a candy without your knowledge," Hermione continues as quickly as she can, hoping not to be interrupted, but Draco is in no mood to speak, "After some research, I think it transforms feelings: I think your hatred of me, has turned into a passion... "

"It's not hate." he hastens to correct her, pointing his eyes into Hermione's. 

"I figured you'd say that, after all, you're still under the influence of the candy. I'm surprised instead that you didn't ask how it could disappear." she opened her shoulder strap, leaning forward to deliver a small blue bottle into the Slytherin's hands. Upon contact with Hermione, the boy's body feels a chill, the blood chilling inside him, then flowing warmly at a speed he's never felt before.

"By drinking this, you should stop feeling for me what you've been feeling for days and we could continue to hate each other, as usual."

Draco raises an eyebrow for the umpteenth time, looking at the flask in his hand. Impossible, he thinks. Impossible that he could stop having feelings for Hermione. The girl bends her head to one side as she watches him not move a muscle, "I know it's frustrating, that the Weasley twins are nothing but rogues, that... "

"Impossible." Draco then states, opening the bottle and drinking it all in one gulp, "I think it's impossible, Hermione." she pauses, petrified. 

"Maybe so, maybe I'll stop craving you every time you pass me in the halls, stop looking for you and wanting to kiss you, stop a lot of things, but I won't stop liking you, Hermione."

Now she's the one raising an eyebrow, completely bewildered. 

"I've never hated you, I may have despised you for a few years, but I stopped doing that a while ago. Hermione, I like you, I've liked you ever since you punched me in the face, I've liked you ever since you saccharinely answered Snape, I've liked you ever since you pointed your toes... " he pauses, because he suddenly realizes what he said and blushes, shifting his gaze away from her, covering the face with a hand. 

Hermione, for her part, froze for so many reasons: while Draco confessed his love for her - a good reason to be surprised -, she also realized that she had always been in love with Fred, that the candy doesn't transform anything, it's just _pure love_ , as George had already hinted to her despite her not believing it. She swallows, reminding herself that she is sitting in the grass around Hogwarts, in front of Malfoy. 

"Forget what I told you, just leave me alone," he hastens to say, tossing the bottle into her hands, standing up, ready to walk away, but Hermione stops him, grabbing his forearm, forcing him to turn away from her for the umpteenth time. 

"I can't reciprocate your feelings," she whispers, chaining her gaze to Draco's, "But I'm glad you had the courage to tell me."

The Slytherin finally relents and lets a smile escape. The first, Hermione believes, entirely truthful. He runs a strand of hair behind her ear, letting a deep sigh escape, "Let's forget it, shall we, Granger? I don't need the pity of someone like you."

She shakes her face, retrieving the shoulder strap she left on the ground, "Shall we go to Transfiguration, Malfoy?"


	19. Chapter eighteen

It is a summer afternoon, the sun is high in the sky and warms the meadows around the Burrow.

It is on that summer afternoon that Fred, coming down to get a glass of water in the kitchen, is distracted by the crystal clear sound of laughter. It enters his head and swears, as his hand touches the cold glass, that he has never heard a more beautiful sound. The point is, being the king of jokes, he's heard hundreds of laughs in his life, but this one is so crystal clear that it sends a shiver down his spine. 

With his free hand, he draws the curtain away from the window and with his eyes he looks for that laugh. His gaze runs far away, to the hills, to the sky, to the birds flying, and then it drops to Hermione, Hermione chasing Crookshanks across the lawn and laughing. Hermione in shorts, an ordinary t-shirt, and a zest for life that invigorates every cell in Fred's body. He watches her as the young woman suddenly freezes and catches her breath, moving the strand of hair on her face behind her ear. The sun hits her face and the twin's heart leaps, as Hermione resumes laughing, because Crookshanks has laid down on the ground, demanding to be petted properly. 

"Did you go to the well to get a drink?" asks George, popping into the kitchen. Fred hurries to close the curtain with his hands and fills his glass, before bringing it to his lips. He has a different smile than usual, the twin easily notices, it's as if he's become aware of a new world. 

"Tasty spring water," Fred replies, patting him twice on the shoulder, before walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs two by two. 

George looks at him suspiciously, then approaching the window, watching Hermione's figure out in the Burrow's meadow patting Crookshanks on the head. He stands there for about ten seconds, a grin painting itself on his wicked face, understanding more than there is to understand. 

⳧

In the stands of the World Cup, Fred positions himself behind Hermione, resting his hands close to hers, chaining her in his arms. The young woman's back pulls up to her twin's chest, their fingers brushing against the handrail they are leaning against. 

George mimics the same movement with Ginny, which is why it doesn't seem strange, not even when Hermione turns to tell him something and looks up at him, not even when Fred comes up to her ear and whispers something indecent about the shape of the underwear the Irish wear under their players' uniforms, not even when Hermione laughs out loud, bringing a hand over her mouth. 

The crystalline sound that the twin so loves returns several times that night, enchains him more and more, is a bottomless chasm. The more he hears it, the more he wants to hear it. But it is not only the sound that is beautiful, Hermione's smile is beautiful too, the face is beautiful, she is beautiful. 

⳧

Fred's hands touch as he holds Hermione's body in his arms in the Common Room. At three o'clock in the morning, after the Yule Ball, Fred Weasley has finally worked up the courage to ask Hermione Granger to dance with him. Never mind the music, never mind the light, never mind that she has decided to undo her hairstyle, never mind that his tie is slightly loose. 

"You smell." whispers Hermione, resting her face against his chest, which, with movement, is lulling her like a lullaby. Never did she think she would be so comfortable in anyone's arms, but Fred's are firm and safe.

The twin smiles and thanks Merlin that she didn't notice him: that compliment, as silly as it is, hits him in the chest, fills him with an unknown happiness. His heart starts beating faster than usual and he doesn't really know how to react to the change: what is it? He stares at the fire in the fireplace for a moment, clasping his fingers behind the young woman's back. He notices that she's fine, that it's almost as if he's come full circle, with her there with him. He rests his cheek against her head, beginning to imagine: what if she's always like this? 

With Hermione it's surprisingly easy to laugh, to joke, even to talk: it's an escape valve, it's a safe place to take refuge, it's becoming a small daily routine. He blinks, suddenly struck by a fleeting thought: is he in love? For a few seconds he says nothing: Hermione's hands clasp Fred's shoulders gently, while a guilty smile is painted on his twin's face. He's been wanting to dance with her for even a minute all evening, and now that they're there, he knows it was worth it.

"Granger, you just stepped on my foot," he informs her in a low voice, afraid to run too far, to think too much. _He and Hermione?_ They are... Yet it's like he touches the sky with one finger when they're together. 

"Don't be silly, I didn't step on anything at all." 

"If you didn't do it, I have no idea what did." he points out, dipping his expression in mischief, watching amused as Hermione's reaction, barefoot in the Common Room, sits hastily on the back of the couch. Their bodies pull apart, but their beats don't stop sounding in sync. 

"Weasley, I swear if you made this up I'll... "

She doesn't have time to finish her sentence, that Fred lifts her into his arms, touches his fingers to the soft fabric of the periwinkle dress she's wearing, and lays her safely on the first step of the ramp leading up to the girls' dormitory, "Goodnight, Granger." he whispers to her, letting her go slowly, brushing against her body for a few more seconds, before feeding into the entrance of the boys'. 

"Good night... "

⳧

When Hermione finishes drinking her cup of tea, Fred motions for her to follow her to the top floor. Molly, the only other person in the kitchen with them at that hour, raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but doesn't have time to ask anything as the two quickly disappear up the stairs of Grimmauld Place. They greet Buckbeak with a short bow and enter a small room that serves as a closet. 

"I hope you brought me here for a good reason," she says, thinking softly of the mountain of books waiting for her in her room and the letter from Viktor on her nightstand. 

"I never do anything for nothing." Fred sits calmly on the floor, Hermione stands looking at him, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting for an answer, "I'm afraid George got up today wanting to pull a few pranks here and there around the house, I'm offering you an escape to a new hair color, though red would look so good on you too."

"What's in it for you?" she asks, reluctantly. She ignores the twin's comment, forcing herself not to blush in front of him, who can't give her away. 

Fred looks up and smiles. It's a smile so beautiful, so wide, _so_ , that Hermione's heart jumps, not once, but a thousand times in the same second. Something inside her snaps, as if she feels the blood circulating in her veins for the first time, as if the world suddenly turns color. 

Then, as if drawn to those curved lips, she sits down on the floor in front of him, "I would have brought a book, if I'd known sooner," she confesses, shrugging. 

"No, I don't think you would have brought it."

She looks at him with a confused expression on her face, "And how can you tell? Only Merlin knows how long we should be here."

"I wouldn't have let you," Fred whispers sneering, "Have you noticed that since we've been here all you've been doing is studying?" the girl thinks about it for a moment and realizes that the twin is right, which is why she looks at him intently, surprised. 

"So you're going to make me die of boredom: you and I locked in a closet for hours." a shy smile appears on her face, " _Really funny_." 

Fred shakes his head, stepping closer, "Granger, that sounds like pretty funny stuff to me," he raises a hand, counting with each word, "Me, you, and a closet."

Hermione blushes barely on her cheeks, realizing the situation, "Maybe I prefer the new hair color, wasn't it you who told me that red might suit me?"

"It would look tremendously good on you." Fred smiles at her, but before he can continue talking a ray of sunlight comes through the window and illuminates his face. He closes one eye, blinded. That's why he doesn't notice that Hermione has moved a few inches closer to him, extending her hand.

The girl's finger tickles his face, following the curve of his cheek, then going up towards his nose, "I've always wanted to do that." she confesses with a shy smile. 

Always is a powerful word, or at least that's what Fred thinks, as Hermione's index finger passes by his eye and then down to the corner of his mouth. A shiver lights up his body, because she's following the entire perimeter of his lips. 

"Thanks to your freckles, your face is like a starry sky," she hastens to explain, unable to pull her hand away: the twin's skin is remarkably soft, "I'm creating a map of your constellations."

It's not awkward for either of them-Fred doesn't take advantage of the moment to make jokes, Hermione's cheeks are back to their natural color. They stay together, tight in this very feeble contact. He reluctantly gives up his lips and reaches down to the side of her neck, gathering the last of the stars. The twin struggles to speak, feeling studied by Hermione's hazel eyes, by a piercing gaze: he has never been so naked, not literally, in front of another person. 

"Hi." he whispers with a smile, as soon as she stares him full in the face, after what seemed like forever. 

"Hi." Hermione's finger, still fused to her twin's skin, suddenly pulls away as the closet door jerks open. Fred can't take his eyes off the girl, off her hand: it's like he's lost a piece of himself. 

"Hermione." Ginny calls back to her, "George. Down. Ron traumatized, Harry unconscious, your books." she says like a robot, punctuating the words with breathlessness.

" _My books_?" Fred is soon forgotten, though the feeling in his finger is still vivid. Shee jerks up, resting a hand on the twin's shoulder to get past him and out of the closet quickly. Then she returns, "Thank you." it's a whisper, Ginny doesn't hear it, Fred reads it on her lips. 

⳧

"You're mispronouncing it," Hermione repeats for the eighth time, turning the page of the _Numerology and Grammar_ book and dipping her pen into the inkwell again. Fred looks up at her, leaving his wand in mid-air, unable to find the words. 

"And position, too," she rages, flashing a half-smile on her lips. 

The twin shakes his head, "What am I doing wrong?" he relaxes, when Hermione looks at him and is obviously amused by the situation. She got out of bed for the first time that morning and began to think, " _Oh, screw it._ Oh, screw two cookies in the morning doesn't do any harm, oh, screw it isn't really that important to put in early morning studying during summer vacation, oh, screw it she has a great time with Fred. She with Fred never gets bored. She with Fred discovers new constellations. She with Fred and that's it. 

She moves closer, leaning over the table to better read the spell her twin has been trying for the past twenty minutes or so. Fred moves to the side, giving her the space she needs to look at the book, but he doesn't look at it with her. His gaze falls on her face, which is still giggling. He realizes he's looking at her, he's been looking at her for so long he doesn't even remember. And he likes looking at her. In fact, he just likes Hermione. 

"The movement is up, not down," the young woman speaks again, turning to Fred who, at an appropriate distance, is sneering, "And the accent is on the second 'o', not the third."

"That's the eighth time you've told me the movement is up and not down and it still hasn't worked."

"Because you're terrible at it." he comments, sitting back down in his seat, with the express purpose of continuing the _Arthmancy_ exercise. 

Fred has a whole other idea and it is he who stands up this time, approaching her with a mocking smile, bending down to her height, "Let me see." he whispers to her.

Oh, what the hell. Hermione blushes on her cheeks, taking her twin's wand in her hands, positioning herself a few inches away from him so he can see, but Fred is quicker. He reaches behind her, passing one arm around her belly and the other running to the hand holding the wand between his fingers. Hermione says nothing as she feels Fred's skin against hers. She wishes she could let herself fall better into those arms, feel the contact with his chest better, but she forces her mind to focus on the movement rather than the boy's breath on her neck. 

"Convercòloris." whispers Fred, as soon as she moves her hand. The spell breaks on the apple she had been practicing with for the past twenty minutes. It turns from red to brown. 

The twin smiles, holding Hermione in his arms and then standing in front of her with a toothy grin, "I did it!"

The girl rolls her eyes, "You did it." 

"I'll finally be able to get your hair back to your color, although red, I feel like I've told you before, really suits you." Hermione has an epiphany: is he trying that spell because he wants to help her? Her heart once again melts in her chest as Fred raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. 

"I think I'll wait until the potion wears off."

"Granger, don't you trust me? The biggest..."

Hermione laughs and the twin stops talking abruptly. She turns away from the boy, closing her _Arithmancy_ book, "You've succeeded in one out of a hundred spells, you can't really expect me to... "

But this time it's Fred who doesn't let her finish talking, eyeing George coming out of the kitchen, "You're a killjoy." he tells her, rubbing her hair with a vigorous hand gesture, then following his twin upstairs. 

The trouble, Hermione realizes when she hears the door to the boys' room slam, is that, by dint of spending time with Fred, she would have trusted him too much. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a translation, something I'm not so good at. If there are any errors, please let me know ❤.


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